Tatiana Lorenz

Returning from the contest that Hohenheim had arranged, Tatiana would admit that she was less than thrilled by the results. Perhaps it was the fact that she had gotten so badly affected by the demons as to attack her own allies, though at least she hadn't actually killed any of them in the process. That would have been a bit awkward, even if she was sure that they would have understood the circumstances in which it occurred. Corruption wasn't really something she could do anything about once it had happened.

With the ultimate outcome, she supposed she could overlook any grievances that she currently had. Instead she had ended up at the training field for a bit of practice, therapeutic in its own method. There was nothing like losing yourself in a simulated dogfight, were you could just blow away drones without worry.

But that wasn't what she was doing right now. Instead she was at the range, sans her combat gear. In front of her hovered a couple blocks, each of differing size and density. Slowly they moved, spinning to and fro, darting past each other in complex patterns as her hands moved to indicate where they should go. Impressive, but moreso because this was done without any mechanical assistance to be detected.

It was all a result of her wish, really. Before she had been nothing spectacular, but now she was able to do something like this with an ease that was almost trivial. The words rang in her head, a reminder of what she had just gained. Now she had power, a power that could help hr prevent what had happened in this previous fight, and allow her to aid her allies on the battlefield. She was sure that they would appreciate it, once she had the opportunity to show it off.

With a gesture the orbs were sent spinning away, slamming into the targets downrange with a growing accuracy. She was still working on it, but by the time the next battle came around she was sure that she would give them all a nasty shock.

---

Tartys

In the pavilions of heaven, the sound of a harp could be heard.

Tartys wore a warm grin as she relaxed against a marble pillar, feeling the eyes of other angels and beings upon her as she strummed the harp. It was new, a gift acquired from the last battle, and it was perfectly in tune as far as she could tell. Only to be expected considering who it came from, even if she didn't know how skilled the maker was.

Things seemed to be...different, as if she were viewing Heaven in a new light after getting back from that mission. It probably had not been Hohenheim's intent, but then again the scientist probably didn't have an intent beyond seeing the immediate short term effects. Then again they would probably never see her again so did it truly matter? All she could do was take what she had learned and move forward, towards the future that waited for her.

Her songs reflected that. No longer was it sadness, melancholy for what had been lost like at Alt Signia. Instead it was a melody of hope, of rising, and of the far off future where this war might come to an end, if not in victory then in a settlement where all could live together.

She could tell that those watching appreciated it as well, and knowing that she was lifting their spirits made her play with that much more passion. If she could just make them feel better, know that they were living happily, it made all the fighting worth it.

For now she relaxed, and played. The time for another fight would come soon, but until then, she had no intention of doing anything else besides live. After what they had been through, she could use a bit of a break.

To Marquis, it was becoming increasingly clear that Alexi was mentally unhinged and should never be allowed within reach a functional firearm. So he did what any logical person would do and took the receiver back, placing it up onto the wall where it had been moments ago. A second later she even explained that she greatly prefered the sword that looked about ready to torch everything in sight to any other weapon, prompting the robot to hand back the blade. ”Well, in that case, you should probably contract a fire-proof scabbard and keep this in it unless you mean to make use of it.” She then responded to his inquiry about why exactly she was here, and gave quite the… unique answer, for lack of a better word. ”Well, the teleport code has already been terminated, and I have been monitoring Ni-Mu’s vitals from here. As has my compatriot…” The android turned his head to the corner usually occupied by Stark Zealot and squinted, ever suspicious of him.

”THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” Alexi could hardly contain herself as she grabbed the sword from him as soon as he started motioning to give it back. She held it to herself, as though hugging a dear friend, or perhaps attempting to smother a small child. The blade was extinguished by her ice powers, the oil turning to ice and flaking off. Above her the umbrella of ice started falling VERY slowly. Like, a couple millimeters a second. ”Oh, it’s good to all be together again, it gets so lonely without you all.” She continued cradling the weapon in her arms, not paying much attention to Marquis’ suggestion for a little bit. However, she eventually managed to tear her attention away from her weapon to return Marquis’ gaze. ”So, in the end, you don’t need us? Kay. I’ll try and find my way out. There’s got to be an ice cream place somewhere.”

Marquis watched in awe for a second, watching as the fire was extinguished the second she made contact with it. ”Amazing… cryomancers usually exhibit a crippling weakness to heat, but you just snuffed one out without issue…” He went quiet for a moment, running calculations through his head to determine exactly why this was the case.

”Oh, I do, but there wasn’t much fire. Like, you have a crippling weakness to being stabbed, but if we stabbed you with a little dinky knife, you’d be ok.” Alexi nodded agreeably, happy to explain more of her particular view of the world. ”I’m actually weak to being stabbed too.” She whispered to Marquis conspiratorially. ”We haven’t met someone who’s immune to being stabbed yet, though I’ve heard they’re out there. Like skeletons. Or ghosts. Or skeleton ghosts. Spooky right?”

The robot turned to a monitor on his workbench, a recording of Ni-Mu’s vision filling the screen. He paused the video just as the prototype glanced over Ghelgath, who looked quite uncomfortable in the heat of Hohenheim’s lobby, despite the clone he had been fighting. ”This demon has a mastery over ice magic much like yourself, Alexi. The difference is that he has shown extreme discomfort with heat of any kind, and you just hugged out a flame fueled by oil.” He turned back around and grasped the girl’s shoulders, eye widening enthusiastically. ”If we can figure out why this happens in your case, we can revolutionize Machina technology! We’ll have an edge the opposition physically can never have!”

Alexi seemed to be enraptured by the screen, and the sight of Ghelgath.. There was even a tiny bit of drool that seemed to be forming. ”Wow… He’s not like me, he’s amazing! Are you seeing what he’s been doing? He summoned monsters of ice! And they can fight and move on their own? And the sheer weight of ice in his attacks… So cool...” And then as Marquis grabbed her and turned her round to face him, her eyes spun a bit as she refocused on him. ”Well, maybe because he’s got ten times more ice, he’s got ten times more weakness?” She offered, still a bit confused and clutching for an answer. And then she smiled. ”Heh.. Cool.. I get it, good one guys.”

Marquis’ excitement was quelled at Alexi’s theory, one arm crossing under his chest and the free hand stroking his metallic chin like a philosopher would a beard. ”That could very well be the case… though, with your consent, I would like to run some tests on you once I’m finished here.” He gestured to the sweater that was shoved to the corner of the work space, the wool creation somehow managing to look dejected. ”The results could prove invaluable to our cause.” The robot turned around once again and picked up where he left off, laying out the piece of clothing and resuming his scan on it.

”Sure, no problem. We don’t really do things when we’re not fighting.” Alexi answered, not really seeming to care or perhaps understand. And, she apparently had plenty of free time. A rather more soft smile overtook her neutral expression as a nice memory came upon her and her eyes drifted. ”Occasionally I get to eat something. Good times.”

Marquis kept his head down, rather intent on finishing this scan so he could throw a sweater at a mechanical god. ”Are you saying you don’t eat? Because if that’s the case, go down to the mess and get something to eat. That’s an order.” A slight amount of concern came through his voice, emphasis on slight. The rest was a commander giving orders to take proper care of one’s body.

”Okedoke.” Alexi answered, spinning in place before setting off, blade still bare over her shoulder.

”And put that sword in a scabbard, you’ll take someone’s ear off like that.”

”But then it’s hard to draw.. It’s bigger than my arms..” Alexi answered, still leaving.

The Ice Demon walks slowly down the path towards his castle in a slight brisk of a walk. Ghelgath simply wanted to get home and rest from the atrocity and embarrassment he received during Hohenheim's little game. But there was another thing that kept him from walking in peace. The air here, the aura, it smelled funny. Something major happened to Hell when they left. And being one of the first ones to return to the dark depths, he was completely left in the dark. Maybe King Rufus could explain when he got back, but at this point in time, it seemed like a fruitless possibility. Regardless, he has to get back to his castle. Perhaps his loyal servants had recorded or heard about the events that took place. Whatever they might be...

As Ghelgath approached his castle, he opens the icy doors as they creaked open, ending with a chandling cackle of ice. As he walks slowly to his throne, a robbed ice demon servant of his briskly comes to his position. It seemed slightly panicked, surprised at least. But it seemed that it already confirmed Ghelgath's suspicions.

"Lord Ghelgath..." the voice hissed in a cold tone, "You've finally returned from Hohenheim. I must~"

"What happened while we were gone?" Ghelgath looks at the servant with a chilling stare.

The demon paused for a minute before replying.

"My lord..." he says, seemingly with much regret, "While you were all gone, a demon rebellion took place here. Without Rufus' supervision they went out in a riot, with the throne now barren and defenseless. The entire demon realm has turned into a battlefield wading in Civil War!"

Another deafening pause.

"The throne is now in the hands of a new leader. A new Ki~ I mean... Queen, has taken the reins of Hell itself. And the demons here have already gotten used to her... hospitality."

Ghelgath simply scratched his head. The throne was snatched right under the King's nose. He simply laughed at this statement, with the servant looking blankly in confusion. Whoever this "Queen" is, she was indeed one of those power hungry ambitionists. She was indeed ballsy enough to claim the throne... but if she claimed the throne, surely she would have the power to keep it? It wasn't surprising to have every demon fight for the throne, a taste of that sweet luxurious power. Yet the fact that someone actually took it was indeed surprising. Who is this new Queen? Ghelgath needed more information. He turns towards the servant.

"And just who is this new "Queen" of ours?" Ghelgath sassed out his answer through his teeth.

The servant hesitated before answering, almost as if uttering the name would result in his immediate demise.

"Her name..." he responds slowly, "Is Ira."

An eyebrow raises up in wonder. Ira? The name sounded unfamiliar to him. She could've been a well-known figure, but being inside an ice castle in the coldest regions of Hell, sometimes news tends to come to him slower than he wished.

"Who is this... Ira?" he asks in spite.

"We don't know..." the servant replied with unknowingness, "We don't know for sure. She's just some powerful demon really. A monster many call her. She wears a bone-white mask, gleaming with four red eyes of bloody crimson, also wears armor similar to that of what the humans call... a Samurai, with a katana to match. But do not tread on her lightly. Even to Rufus' standards, she's known for being an extremely deadly and skilled adversary. She's rather infamous in these parts. It may take a combined force of united demon armies and generals to take her down and even then, who knows how many loyal followers does she own in her~."

"Yeah yeah yeah..." interrupts Ghelgath nonchalantly, rolling his eyes, "I get it. Powerful demon warlord, thirsty for power, corrupted beyond repair, yaddi-yaddi-ya... You know, I've sometimes wondered how it would feel to take upon the throne of Hell for myself. Of course, I wouldn't support Hell to its standards, let alone live to tell it to anyone. I hate the heat there and you know it. But Imma just say this... that Rufus is a good King. His forces found me, cared for me, hell they even built a damn castle out here with un-meltable ice. He's a nice guy and I will follow him till the end, no matter how god damn corny that sounds."

He looks out to a nearby balcony window, being barely able to see the horizon road that leads to the Ruling's Castle. A long pause was once again issued, with the howling winds blowing in the background.

"So if you're wondering...." he replies while turning to the servant, "I ain't gonna take the chance to claim it for myself... rather I'll be dealing Rufus a favor. It's time I talk to this "Queen" personally."

The hooded servant's eyes were wide in disbelief as Ghelgath marches towards the front doors.

"Ghelgath, by the name of Hell's Bane, have you gone MAD?" he replies to his master's statement in shock, "You're going to go at this ALONE? W-What just go in there and tell her to simply LEAVE? You know damn well that she'll refuse that order. She'll kill you! You need to wait until the others arrive and form a plan before you can face her."

The Ice Demon King pauses as he sighs, getting back the composure he needs right this minute. His servant was right. He was getting ahead of himself. He needs to 'cool' down and wait for the others to arrive. His eternal debt will have to wait.

"Egh..." he groans with distaste as he looks back, "Fine. We'll wait for further orders..."

He backs away from the door and begins to head back to his Ice Throne. He plops down in it, his cheek buried in a fist as he looks outside his window and at what was going out beyond.

"But they'll need to hurry..." the Ice Demon King replies, turning to the servant, "I'll need to leave a message. You are dismissed, Grolgius."

The Ice servant, now confirmed as Grolgius, bows as he leaves the scene. Meanwhile, Ghelgath turns to the crystal ball in front of him, and issues a warning message to the homes of his fellow demons, minus the castle that once belonged to Rufus.

"Greetings, fellow demons," it starts out, "Fellow coldstone and saucy Ice Demon Ghelgath here. It appears that I've been the first to have gotten back to my place of residence. Nothing seems to be too out of the ordinary really... well, other than the fact that we aren't ruled by good pal King Rufus anymore. No... we are ruled by someone else, ehhh, some demon girl named Ira. I honestly have no idea how she gotten to power so quickly... I mean how long were we gone? Just a few hours or so? Ehhh I don't know. She must be extremely powerful, especially from what I've been hearing... But the premise is this... that person has no right to rule the throne. It looks like we need to team up and configure a plan to get rid of her. I suggest coming to my castle in the farthest and coldest regions of Tatarus for a more secret meeting. Might wanna come quick too. Unless you have another better idea, than please notify me immediately. Thank you ladies and gentlemen, and otherwise have a lovely good day in Hell under Bitch Queen Ira... eh whoever she is, ok bye."

And with that the message was sent. Ghelgath now awaits a response to see what the course of action can be...

Henry Pearl Avaritia The 2nd

---

Henry came into the throne room of the new ruler, some chick named Ira (dumb name for a demon), whistling a merry tune as he flexed his brand new wings he got. A nice Royal Blue color, he won these from finishing up the Gauntlet and beating the shit out of several things. All in good fun really, sure the Angels won but it wasn't that big of a deal. The new queen would probably understand. He folded his wings up so they weren't taking up too much space and he lightly bowed to her, making sure to keep his eyes on her at all times.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I now swear loyalty to you and stuff, blah blah blah. Now that the formalities are out of the way, I wanna go home." This was all said in a very bland tone, this was the most boring part about revolutions and power transfers honestly. Also he didn't love the mask,l she was rocking, he thought it was fucking stupid and pointlessly edgy. The less contact he had with this bitch the better, he was gonna go start researching new stuff to acquire as soon as he got home. Maybe he should steal a laser gun. That would be sick. Nah he just got a new flame gun. Maybe a new sword would be cool. Something to do with ice, he was feeling inspired by Ghelgath.

Rarely did one find the Arcane Fool near the citadels of Heaven, not that anyone ever sought him out. Instead, he spent the majority of his time keeping to himself in the more obscure reaches of the realm, where he did god knows what to entertain himself. Not fishing apparently. However he had a bargain to uphold for some reason and he wasn't going to keep it by steering away from society. Not today anyway. Instead, for the first time in a couple hundred years, he found himself among quartz and marble constructs that made up heavens kingdom, admiring the ominous but enchanting tune played by one of the returns from the mad Hoenhime trials.

After several minutes of quietly listening to the Angel sing and play out the elegant music, it became clear to Zak the instrument, a harp, was rather strange and foreign. It wasn't hard to surmise that it didn't come from heaven. The patterns weren't indicative of any old 'made in heaven' instrument. The way the musician grasped and strummed it meant she was skilled, but the instrument itself was not entirely familiar to her. He figured she had only recently acquired it, though he could have been wrong. Thoughts continued to run through the chaotic mind of Zak as they usually did, sporadic and many. He pondered the angel herself as well. One thing to note was she seemed nowhere near the end of her song.

Then suddenly, clapping. Hysterical clapping at that. The sound rang out through the pavilion. The few angels who stuck around to admire the hymns and melodies which resonated from the musicians harp subtly dispersed as they noticed where the mad applause was coming from. Right above the harp player Tartys, or rather on top of the towering marble pillar she leaned against, was the jubilant fiery haired angel, Zak. Wind toiled with the tail of his blue coat as he sat, cross legged atop the pillar, peering down at the angelic harpist with a pleasant but mischievous expression. "Oi wassat then?!" He shouted as his applause ended. Smoke faintly escaped his half grin as he spoke.

Before she could answer, or blink for that matter, Zak leaped down, landing a bit clumsily beside Tartys with a subtle thud on the tiled marble floor. "Aye...quite a sight indeed isn't it?" He asked, inspecting the instrument which she drew her fingers across so elegantly. Though it wasn't so much the music that caught his eye...or ear rather. "Not from 'round here is it?" He asked, aiming to prod at the strings with a wandering finger if he could. "Take requests? Know any drinkin' songs? How 'bout tha drunk scotsman? One of mah favorites!" Odd smelling smoke wafted out of his nostrils as he puffed on the rice paper roll hanging precariously from the corner of his mouth.

Postponed. I'll add something here later.

*I MESSED UP I APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE*

Having been one of Tartys' audience members, albeit one of the less attentive ones, Cydone looked up from his book, a rather light tome on the history of a particular era's architecture with plenty of pretty pictures, as Zak started making a scene out of it. Giving a bit of an exasperated sigh, he said under his breath, "Bleeding Fool.. Is he deliberately trying to irritate her?"

He kept an eye on things, in case the guy's antics turned too aggressive, he had heard there had been some harpies or something slicing up a bunch of guys in a tavern just the other day. Weird, since he didn't remember harpies being that aggressive or there being any harpies left. Still, he figured the guy was just gonna make a pest of himself and that the show was over.

Cydone started gathering up the leftovers from his lunch, figuring this guy was just gonna bother Tartys until she left, and that'd probably result in her leaving pretty soon. A half eaten sandwich, a barely gnawed on apple, and a bright plaid tablecloth went back into a small hamper that meshed with his cowboy get-up like a rhinocerous with a lotus flower pond.

@Inner Demon@Flamelord

Sliske Arkilius

Battered and broken from the trials of Hohenheim the Alchemist, Sliske returned to Hell in his usual fashion: Condensing from a probably lethal gas in the foyer of his manor close to the center of his homeland. As always, reanimation wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, though a moment of excruciating pain beat an eternity of darkness. As was protocal, the entire staff of Arkilius Manor arrived to observe their master come back to life once again and welcome him home.

As his body returned to its wholeness, the eyes of the Serpent-Tongued Swindler opened and were immediately consumed in the rage typical of him. Moving swiftly, he crossed the room and grabbed one of the butlers by the collar of his shirt. This servant was a hideous creature, some mix of an orc and a goblin with red skin and an untamed mass of shaggy black hair running all the way down to a whip-like tail. "You, I have a job for you and your kind..." The demon reached inside of his jacket and thrust an ancient slip of paper into the chest of the imp in his grasp, letting him go with an overly agressive drop. "Mass produce those, you're riding onto the battlefield the second they're ready. I want them done by the next battle!" With that, he turned to the door and set a brisk pace, the crowd around him parting to make way for the embodiment of wrath. One tried to give chase with something akin to a telegram in its hands, though its stumpy legs undermined this effort.

The door flew open with a concussive blast, the phoenix belonging to Sliske ready and waiting for her leige to mount and ride her. And that's just what he did, one leg was swung over her back and tucked underneath the left wing, right leg doing the same. "To Rufus' throne. I need to have a chat with him..." She took off, soaring across the burning skies of Hell with grace a relatively short distance to the throne of the land.

Upon their arrival at the steps up to the seat of power, Sliske dismounted and began his ascent. It appeared that Henry had beat him there, earning dissatisfied grunt from the older demon. He had been hoping to catch the King of Hell alone, though that seemed to be out of the question. He looked up from the bastard bowing at the top of the stairs as his foot landed on the landing, catching a glimpse at the new Queen.

Had a mortal gotten this angry at any point in their lives, they would've popped a blood vessel and died on the spot. However, Sliske was not a mortal, so his claws burrowed into his palms and a pair of bony spikes began to grow out of his back, membranous wings taking shape already. "I'm gone for a fucking day, and this bitch takes over Hell? What kind of shit is this, I've been masterminding a takeover for the last millenia, and you walk in and kick him out like that!? I'm not the goddamn strongest person in this shithole, but my army makes up all the support of Hell's army." He realized what he just said, wings receding and a smug grin plastering itself across his face. The cards were in his hands, and he could potentially bargain at this point.

"I'll let you take the throne, but if you want my units in this war any longer you'll dance to my tune. Think about it, the horde's useless without anything to keep it stocked and buffed in battle." The trademarked chuckles of victory sounded from the incubus, hand extending for a pact to be sealed.

And there they were. The Demons fresh from Hohenheim’s Castle had arrived to her throne room as per instruction. There weren’t many to be honest, only Henry and Sliske actually taking the time to visit her in person. Though as the new ruler of Hell, she could sense those that would sow distrust in that which she wished to achieve. This was no power of hers, simply an acknowledgement of the way Hell functioned as a society.

The strong consumed the weak after all, and down here, she could already feel the malice directed towards her. Good. Let them come with their armies and schemes; it would serve them a good reminder of why she was sitting in the throne and they were not. Already she could a certain chilly academic was rallying forces together, though this only meant more failures in Hell’s future against the other two Factions.

But back to the present moment. Ira nodded towards Henry words, motioning for his dismissal. He had given his verbal binding and that was more than enough. The real problem would be Sliske and, if she bothered to show up, Victoire. Even so, a plague of what ifs and what could have been could not have saved the sharp-tongued Demon from letting his own personal thoughts get the better of him.

Ira’s masked gaze bored down into Sliske as if to consider her words before she spoke at last. “Make no mistake tactician. King Rufus left of his own accord; I’d send you the letter of proof for confirmation, but frankly your shoddy behavior these last few battles have made me skeptical in trusting you with them. Not that creatures of Hell can facilitate trust to begin with.”

She considered his new few words, even tilting her head at the extended hand. “Bargaining for purpose to me? That seems below even you Sliske,” Ira said before crossing her legs. She had acted like she had just sat back down; and in reality, she had, because the sound of her blade being stored in its sheath filled the throne room. Sliske would find his extended hand of “greeting” to be nothing but a stump now, the actual hand writhing about in an unsightly manner at Ira’s booted feet.

However, his punishment wasn’t over yet, and a spray of black flames had completely overtaken what little remained the stump. “Consider that my best condolences to you Sliske. No matter how many times you try to regenerate, the black flames will continue to eat away at your hand. No doubt it will probably hurt with each time; but back to our conversation. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t make the rest of your body burn and align Hell’s forces under Victoire’s command?”

Back in the Machina Capital of Hyperion, a certain human was walking about, her steps leading her to the firing range. Bastion had heard snippets of the last battle from various other soldiers but she wanted to hear it directly from her friend. As such, she was surprised to find Tatiana levitating some blocks at the firing range, eyes widening. “Whoah! So cool!” she said, running over to her friend. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

---

Tartys

The sudden applause did not prove to completely stop Tartys, though it did take her off guard. But she composed herself to finish with a last strumming note before looking towards the talkative audience member, who seemed vibrant, rough, and energetic. The way he quickly leapt down to begin speaking to her indicated as such, though she did notice that some of the rest of the audience didn't approve of that and were already moving to leave.

Shaking her head, fingers gently brushed against the strings of the harp as she took a brief pause in her playing. "No," she confirmed. "It was a gift for recent successes." Well, that was what she would like to imagine it was anyways. Doubtlessly Hohenheim had some other purpose in mind, but who was she to fathom the mind of the mad scientist?

The song request did earn a light smirk, if only because of how familiar it sounded to her. "Sadly I am not that sort of purveyor. I would suggest checking with the dwarves," she offered, before resuming her song. This would be in a lighter volume though, to allow them to continue talking if this angel wanted to do so. She'd had her share of drunken shenanigans in recent days, and had no real desire to encourage it at the moment.

@The 42nd Gecko@Inner Demon

---

Tatiana Lorenz

Tatiana was busy preparing the next test for herself when she found the familiar face approaching her once again, with Bastion impressed by the display of power that Tatiana had just done on the range. Seeing the arrival of her friend, it brought an end to the test for the moment, though she did not feel bad about interrupting it. There would be plenty of time to practice later.

"Good morning," she said as she turned to face Bastion, lowering her hand as she relaxed against the table next to her. She was feeling much better than previously, if only since she had come out alive, and it allowed her to wonder on other factors, such as the shock her friend had. Surely this wasn't that unusual, for a member of the Machina. Even she had seen odder things.

"A gift from the Mad Scientist," she explained smoothly. "She found some way to amplify my latent psionic abilities, which were further improved through neural augments. At the moment I'm just experimenting to see what the extent of my new powers are." Telekinesis obviously, in addition to what she could do before, but the rest she wasn't entirely sure on it. "How are you doing?"

@TheWindel

Sliske quite literally hissed as his right hand was severed from his arm, black flames using the stump as fuel while his hand flopped around, rapidly changing shapes as nerves fired. He slinked back like a wounded animal, covering his wound with his left hand and keeping eyes on the woman that had just proven she could kill him at any time should she wish. He wouldn't win a direct fight, that much was clear, and as much as he would like to sic his army on her, it wasn't the best option at the time. She then asked why he should even be kept around and allowed to lead Hell's forces, to which the incubus gave her a look of pure hatred. "You wanna know why I shouldn't get burned off? You want to know why Rufus kept me around for so long? Fine, I'll tell you, now get comfy." Like a madman he paced, planning each and every word with extensive care, though he didn't necessarily hide a distaste for the new Queen of Hell.

"I'm in command of this army because I'm effective. When I step on the battlefield with a significant force, we win because I'm the only one in this hole that can lead! Henry's a greedy little shit, Ghelgath's a fucking hermit, Fran just cares about how many things she can fuck, Balrog has the mind of a pigeon, and Victoire's only out for her own hide!" He paused for a short moment, turning on his heel to face Ira and her pointless mask. "And what of Sliske? Well, planets fall to my forces, I'm a conqueror! Without me, Hell stalls out and will get crushed in seconds! Even now my Overblessers churn out artillery to keep our borders locked down! Nuns keep the horde replenished, and Warfathers give us the offensive edge we need!" With that, he turned around and clasped his left hand around the burning stub of his wrist. "Simply put, we're fucked if I pull my support or you take me from my position." He stopped at the top of the stairs, chin up as if he had admitted some form of defeat.

"Ultimately, the decision lies with you, Ira. The question is if you'll make the right one." Here, he stood completely still, vulnerable to attack from her... or Henry, if he decided to be a dick. He did, however, have the capability of opening up a rift and bring in the big guns should he feel the need at any moment.

---

Following his refusal to partake in the trials of the Alchemist, for he had no needs in unlife besides weaponry and armor, Torag had spent most of his time honing his general lack of magical ability into his combat. While he was still largely reliant on his scythe and claymore, he now had some level of range to give him an edge over the faster competition... which was just about everyone in the Nexus.

Now, however, the sounds of a harp had beckoned him from his practice, his armor betraying his approach as always. Tartys and company would likely hear him coming long before they saw him, though it wasn't like that mattered much. These were his allies, compatriots... friends was a better word at this point. The word felt extremely foreign as it passed through the wraith's mind, though it was a welcome feeling at this point. In five-hundred years he hadn't known anyone he could bestow that word unto, but now he had at least two that he could. He rounded the corner to the courtyard just as the playing began again, his dry skin cracking into a light smile while he descended the stairs she was seated on.

He gave polite nods to everyone present before sitting down on the edge of the pavilion's fountain, content to listen to the harp's sweet music for the time being. He was expecting a visit from a certain roguish dragon in the near future, though. All he had to do was hang out and relax for the moment.

His peace was interrupted at the sight of many earthy shades of wings covering the sky, an astonishing sight considering there was only one person aligned with Heaven that had wings that were not white. In this moment, the leader of this flock gracefully dropped down into the courtyard, far more gleeful than anyone had ever seen him. Torag in particular had never seen anyone this happy, then again he hadn't watched as his entire race was enslaved to a demonic power.

---

A mass of wings overtook the skies of Heaven, which wasn't the rare of an occurrence. The thing that made this exceptional was the colors of the wings, ranging from dark grays and blacks to earthy browns and all the way to snow white. And none were moving faster than the figure of Syphax, Knight of the Southern Winds. This was his wish from Hohenheim at its complete fruition, which would've been predictable for him. He had wished for nothing more than the liberation of his people from the depths of Hell, and here they were now, flying high over Heaven to offer their services to the faction that had indirectly saved them. Sure, the Angels always had the aerial advantage, but now they had total domination of anything off the ground with the sheer numbers here to take revenge on the Demons.

In his travel, Syphax spotted the figure of Torag moving through a pavilion to sit at a fountain, to which he smiled brightly and dropped from the swarm into the yard. Typical of him, he landed gracefully and stood erect, looking up at his once again freed people. His face broke into a wide smile and a tear of joy ran down his face, words to his friends choked with emotion. "This is beautiful, isn't it? Every single one of them, alive and well... it's a dream come true, truly." He wiped the water from his eye, smile only widening as he enjoyed the sight of everything he worked for coming to life.

“You don’t need to worry with me,” Was Juno’s reply to Omega’s concern about she losing to the recently arrived boss, “even if that happened, Hoho said I would get it. I’ll take Cely with me when I’m back home. I can’t wait to see her now.” Juno said. Her voice was soft and caring, as if the purple-clad warrior were talking about someone very important to her, which was likely the case, considering Hohenheim’s offer from the beginning of the trials.

“Anyway, you should get going now. Windy gets mad very easily, if you stay here, she might end up hurting you,” that was the last thing Juno said to the glowing specter, before he too disappeared toward Hohenheim’s chambers.

The symphony of battle echoed even louder as Juno and the wind spirit, better known by the name Windy.



The Alchemist rolled a pair of dice, each having a pair of sides painted black, white and red, in her right hand as she observed the unfolding of the last stages of her first experiment in a while. Hohenheim regarded everything with an arrogant smirk stamping her face, until Hibiki’s question caught her attention. “Heh, it’s just a crooked nail sticking out of place, nothing to give much mind to. If nothing else, an specimen like you would much more entertaining to work with. I assure you I return all particles to their rightful place and energy state… mostly.”

“What a pity, our time seems to be cut short,” Hohenheim said to Hibiki as Syphax crossed into the chamber, “fetch us some more of those cookies and tea. We don’t want our guests think we are uncultured barbarians, do we?”



“If that’s the issue, then it’s easy to solve,” The Alchemist said to the harpy warrior, throwing one of the tricolor dice at his feet. A moment later, a crushing pain would assail his damaged limbs as bone, tendon and muscles remade themselves at a far faster rate than normal. In a moment Syphax’s leg would be as good as new, except for any phantom pain that might linger after the sudden reconstruction.

"Anyway, given that you are the first to arrive here, I'll grant my favor to your legion. In addition, you can state one request of your own, as long as it's not too outlandish, I shall grant it," Hohenheim said, flashing her best million dollar smirk at Syphax. "Oh, be quick about it, please. There's a line waiting to do it as well."



"If that's all both of you want, why don't you side with the Angels instead of the Machina?" Hohenheim asked of both Shizuka and Bonesword as they named their requests. "I'm sure that that Celestial Workaholic— erm, Iona would be more than glad to grant this stuff to. Well, maybe not to the Sack-o'-Bones, but I'm sure she would want to indoctrinate another no-nonsense Heavens sucker."

"Anyway, that's not my problem at all," The Alchemist shrugged as she stood up and moved closer to Shizuka with a devious smirk in he lips. Before Hohenheim would do whatever she had in mind, she threw the other dice to Bonesword. If he caught it up, he would find a heavy, black long sword ornamented with delicate gold trimmings along the handle and blade. In fact, that wasn't a weapon far too dissimilar in looks to those wielded by Iona herself.

"That's what you asked for," Hohenheim said, "This blade will get lighter and easier to use whenever your inner demons. Just be aware, if you go too far down the road of redemption, who knows what will become of you? Hehehe."

Having finished addressing Bonesword, Hohenheim turned her attention back to Shizuka once more. "Now then, unlock your hidden potential, you say. That should be rather—" The Alchemist made a sudden halt in her speech, smiling sadistically, "easy for someone like me!" Without a warning, Shizuka would feel a great and sharp pain rock her body to the core, despite her essence not being a physical one. If either of the Maid siblings cared to check the source, they would see that Hoheheim had, unceremoniously, buried her right hand inside Shizuka's stomach, transfixing the spirit as if her armor wasn't even there.

Even if she lacked a body, Shizuka would be able to feel Hohenheim's appendage churning her 'innards', until she finally grasped... something. "Hah! That should be it. Who is it who thought that I couldn't perform Transmutation of the Soul should think again. The Alchemist of Genesis is not—" Hohenheim pulled her arm, which was now buried to the elbow inside Shizuka, in the same jerkish way she inserted it. This time she was holding a ball of light containing what looked like twirled strands of magical scripts, which suspiciously resembled the imagery of the Three of Life with a few Sephiroth shining and others not, inside of it. "Is not someone to be trifled with, hehehehe. Hahahaha!"

"This should free your sister of many of her inhibitions," Hohenheim said once she got back to her seat, pawing the orb of light without much interest, before throwing it off like yesterday's newspaper. "If that is all you wanted from me, you can get going now. If your sister can endure this, she'll find the strength she asked for. As for you," The Alchemist finally addressed directly, "you are permitted to leave. I expect to count with your services again if the chance presents itself. That was not—" Hohenheim snapped the last cookie in half with her perfect teeth, "a half bad time, hahahaha!"



The battle to please the Alchemist of Genesis had ended. Yet, life on the Nexus continued. As if expected, many forces once dormant or hardly known were put into motion once again and change was wrought once more, on this world of chaos. One such forces was about to make herself known among the hordes of Hell, once more, while the other was just about to arrive in Celestia for the first time in a very long while.



A flight of dark bats flocking to Hell's Throneroom would be the herald of Victoire's resurgence withing the Daemonic Realm. Perhaps it was only right that Victoire decided to bring herself out of isolation at a time of great turmoil and bloodshed for the Devils. One couldn't expect anything less of the selfish Blood Countess, after all.

"I, Victoire Bordeaux, come to offer my sincerest praises to the new ruler of Hell," The smallish vampire said as she curtsied formally.

The chaos around herself, including Sliske's predicament and stand off against Ira, or Henry's lack of initiative— as ever—
nothing fazed Victoire who kept on her courteous bow and eyes leveled with the stone floor. If this was an act, at least it was a convincing one, much less pretentious than her 'faillen' demonic peers.





On the other hand, the inhabitants of Celestia would have a very rare sight greeting their eyes, Ciel, the Stargazer, who usually passes more time in her observatory tower, close to the borders of the Nexus, came for a visit.

The magus girl was always a liked figure in the Halls of the Heavens, be it for her gentle demeanor, or her posh looks, Ciel had quite a following between the younger masses of the Holy Realm. One could almost say that she was like an idol whose star was always shining. That was especially true given that Ciel's knowledge of the skies was unparalleled, and her magic allowed the argent-haired maiden to control every aspect of Celestial Magic, including the ability to summon many other being who inhabit the Heavens and are classified as Celestial Spirits. It's needless to say who are her biggest fans.

Either way, at this very moment, Ciel would be found drinking some tea, brewed from the Star Lilies that dot the fields around her home, while lazily flipping the pages of an ancient star catalog, left behind by her missing Master. The Star Magus was sitting on a wicker garden chair, besides a glass table, on a balcony, slightly above the place where Tartys performed her songs. "Well, it looks like my 'assistance' on the Alchemist's test was really appreciated. It feels really nice to have the stars shine for you, right?" Ciel said to herself before giving out a light chuckle and continuing to flip the pages of her book.

---

@Lmpkio @Banana @floodtalon @The 42nd Gecko @Mega Birb @Awesomoman64 @Ryonara @Flamelord @Lucius Cypher @TheWindel @Inner Demon

Henry Pearl Avaritia The 2nd

---

Henry nodded and turned to leave when he heard a sword entering it's sheath. He moved to draw his sword but knew it was already too late. If she was sheathing her sword than he was already dead if he was the target. Luckily he wasn't as evidenced by the hiss of pain from Sliske's mouth and the wet flop of his hand hitting the ground. The situation was interesting now.

Henry turned back to Ira and smiled as he noticed Sliske's hand flopping about, randomly morphing into different shapes. He pulled a camera out and took a quick picture of the scene, this was something he wanted to remember forever. He also subtly opened a Gate beneath Sliske's hand, that was something he wanted as well. Then he began laughing. "WOAH there Sliske! You need a hand?" He shouted as Sliske prattle on about how important he was or how the army would fall without him. "Sliske you fucking idiot! If she's strong enough to take over Hell then she can probably take control of your stupid minions! How fucking stupid are you?"

Victoria entered and pledged allegiance to Ira, however she would be interrupted mid-curtsy by Henry shoving the picture had just taken in her face. "You have got to see this! You just missed Sliske getting his hand cut off!" Henry was laughing even harder, hunching over as he tried to breathe.

---

The swordsman had been able to catch the dice, and was caught off guard by the sudden transformation into the longsword. He was able to lift it and carry it around with a slight bit of difficulty, but it wouldn't prove to be too bad. Bonesword was fascinated with the sword's craftsmanship, as he saw the similarity of it to one of Iona's swords from when he was being judged for his actions. He held it close to him as he walked out of the throne room of Hohenheim, uttering a "Thank you, Hohenheim." before leaving and continuing back to his home on the outskirts of Hyperion.

-=[-[-[ LATER AT BONESWORD'S HOVEL ]-]-]=-

The skeletal swordsman, now with his new arm and sword, had concerned himself with the treatment of his near-child, Charlie the basil-isk. He had kept Charlie in his house, attached to a fairly strong chain, and he had the TV on for Charlie while the swordsman was out and about, working on Hohenheim's castle and what-not. Bonesword had been watching TV with him at the moment, occasionally petting Charlie as the swordsman mended a sheath for his new sword together out of some really tough materials. Once a commercial break happened, the swordsman took a second and looked at the black sword given to him by Hohenheim, and he recalled the words that she told him, saying them aloud. "...if you go too far down the road of redemption, who knows what will become of you?" Those words troubled him, but he had the underlying feeling that he would have to figure out what they meant. There was also the fact that the sword would become lighter if he were to - he guessed unleash - his inner demons. That troubled him even more. What would happen if he let it all loose, completely going rabid and killing everyone around him. He could try and do it, he had the potential, but he remembered his love, and he decided against what he could do.

After a while, Charlie roared before licking Bonesword's arm. The swordsman hastily got up and ran to retrieve a bag of fertilizer he bought while he was making a booze run. "Shhh. I got you some new food, because we're running kind of low on arms for the month." Charlie roared again, but stopped roaring after he began to chow down on the large platter of fertilizer placed in front of him. The giant snake caused his master to smile at the sight, and the snake was hugged after he was finished eating. "Maybe you can come next battle..."

@KoL

---

---

---

The restless spirit of a deceased lover was busy floating around Celestia's market at the time, covering herself in a cloak made from... some kind of divine material. She hid her face around Heaven, as she was afraid of any mockery and discrimination aimed at her because of what she was. Undead were not really 'tolerated' in Heaven, unless they were of some kind of merit, and Abigail was no more than a new grunt of Heaven's army. She wasn't even present for the last battle or Hohenheim's challenge. Regardless of everything, she wanted to purchase something for her small little home in Heaven.

It took her a bit, but she had later got to her home on the Celestian outskirts, amounting to no more than a small room, with a mattress, a bunch of small and burnt out candles, a large blanket and a broken picture frame. It had only half a picture, with the subject matter being Abigail, and the other half was torn off by an unknown person. She saw the white hand on her shoulder, and she assumed it had belonged to the one she had loved so long ago, which was why she had kept it, in efforts to hopefully meet the once she loved. She placed the new candle she bought at the market down, lit it with a quick shot from her Wisp Veil Cannons, and she sat down on the mattress.

"Well.. it's something, I suppose. It's not much, but I can live with this... at least until I get some money from the war. I hope that will be soon..." She was slightly depressed, but she kept her hopes up since she began to live in Heaven, and she still is excited for the hopeful reunion of her lover and herself.

Ira listened calmly and carefully to Sliske’s dramatic monologue, which was more patience than most Demons could care to evoke. Yet instead of the swift death he might have been expecting or even another biting retort about his overall incompetence to this cause, Ira simply gave a hearty laugh, though it was hard to imagine it what with her mask covering her features.

“Yes, I can certainly see that Sliske; which is why I’m impressed by your steadfast conviction even in the face of trial and tribulation,” she noted, turning her head to Sliske’s still writhing hand before it disappeared into one of Henry’s portals. At that moment, the selfish vampire herself appeared from a flock of nightmares. Ira nodded coolly in Victoire’s direction while also choosing to ignore Henry’s words.

“It seems Hell’s forces are as devoted as ever if you three are to be taken into account,” Hell’s Queen stated as she shifted into her throne. “However, like all things in Hell, there are those who would seek greater power than they can handle themselves. Consider this challenge proof of my faith in you Sliske,” she said once more, sensing the cold presence that was Ghelgath. “Prove to me you’re a better commander than the Frozen Wretch.”

Back at Hyperion, Bastion nodded at her friend’s words. So she was a full blown psychic now? That would prove useful for the next battles to come and, truth be told, she couldn’t wait to actually see Tatiana in action on the battlefield. As for the question, Bastion only shrugged for a response.

“Boring. The High Queen thought it was best if I skipped out in the last battle. Said she didn’t want the Mad Alchemist to capture me or whatever. I mean, I guess I get what she was trying to do but I still think I could have helped,” Bastion said with crossed arms. Though from what she heard, Shizuka and Hibiki were also on the front lines and she made a mental reminder to go talk to them about their experiences later.

“Anyway, you heard about the next battle yet? There’s some rumors that the other Factions are observing the ruins of Arcadia. Nothing’s happened yet and I think they’re just scouting it out, but hovering over one place usually means a new battle, right?”

---

With his request denied, Zak withdrew his hand from the harp and shook his head. "Oh well Thas a Shame. Dwarves don't particularly fancy me...nor elves....nor lizard people, imps, bird people, mermen oh especially mermen for...reasons. Priests, pirates, skeletons are okay, werewolves...who generally don't like anyone, black dogs, scientists, lochn-" Suddenly Zak stopped, interrupted by the sight of his light being blotted out. Fluttering shadows dimmed the pavilion as the flock of angels freshly freed from perdition teemed above. "Oh my oh me..." Uttered Zak, gazing up at the sight of the war torn angels. But they weren't angels at all. Just as Syphax descended from among, he realized they were harpies. A horde of them at that. One could even say an army.

"Would ye look at that...Bird peo-uh...Ah mean harpies." Zak tugged at his collar. "Thas gonna be murder on tha cleanin lass aint' it?" Standing and leaning on the pillar next to the musician, Zak took one final puff off the joint, before ashing it out beneath the heel of his boot. "D'ye spose harpies fancy harpists?" Asked the fiery haired angel jokingly as he crossed his arms and observed the flock, and their leader. A new face to him among the many that now held their allegiance with heaven. It was pretty clear Zak had missed a lot since his last visit to the citadel, which was understandable as it had been at least hundreds of years. He didn't need a lot of motivation to remain in obscurity. However he had preferred to not show his face after the fiasco that got him strictly forbidden from 'playing around' with Machina tech. Zak never showed it, but he didn't appreciate being the talk of the town, whether for heroism or mischief.

Interrupting his thoughts, Zak's attention, along with his focus, shifted to a falling feather. It cascaded down from above just close enough for the quick handed angel to reach out and snatch it from the air. "Oi see what Ah mean? Issa mess waitin' to happen!" Zak twirled the long, grey feather between his fingers, admiring it's primal and animalistic features. "Ya know...Ah bet this would make fer a great writin' quill."

Not far from the pavilion fountain, the ghostly cowboy Omega sat listening to the heavenly sounds of Tartys’ new harp. It seemed a bit silly at first, wishing for a harp. But at this moment, everyone seemed to be relaxed and at peace. For this one moment in a universe of war, this group was able to simply sit back and enjoy the soft melody and forget their worries. It was a good reminder as to why Omega fought to end this war. Not for conquest or glory, but simply to end the fighting.

Of course, there could be other reasons for him to fight he didn’t know of yet. In his duster was the journal he got from Hohenheim. The one he got during the trials and used his wish to keep without any strings attached. He could finally read it and learn who he was before he took up the mantle of Divine Deputy. Yet, he hadn’t. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t bring himself to open the first page. What if he had forgotten his past for a reason? What if there was something in here that would alter his perspective of the conflict? Of himself? There were answers he wanted to learn, but knew he couldn’t unlearn them.

Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t see the brown feather glide gently in front of him. Pulling him back to his surroundings Omega gazed up to see the flocks of harpies that now flew above. Syphax had done it. He had succeeded in bringing back his people and now here they were enjoying life. Perhaps he should follow their example and enjoy the moment rather than fretting over some journal.

Hearing Syphax himself at a fountain not far, Omega picked himself up and walked over. ”Ya know, Syphax. In all my time here I don’t think I’ve ever seen an entire species come brought back to life. Now if only we could get Torag here to smile, that’d be a real miracle right there.”

@Mega Birb

---

True to his fashion, Balrog entered the throne room by smashing through the wall across from Ira. ”You…” Balrog said with venom in his voice, He had already been in a sour mood after returning home empty handed a second time. So when he found out Rufus had bailed and some other bitch had taken over and demanding hell bow to her, he was practically ready to fly off the rails. ”You think you can command Balrog?”

Stepping right up to Ira Balrog’s eyes met her’s behind her helmet as he attempted to stare her down. ”You took throne while fighters away like coward! Balrog not loyal to throne. Balrog loyal only to strongest!” Leaning in close Balrog detected the strong scent of blood. Demon blood. Definitely not Ira’s, but another’s. Had she already defended her title? At least she proved she wasn’t completely inept.

Taking a step back, Balrog looked at the others in the room. Henry and Victoire had already given their allegiance, while Sliske was missing a hand; no doubt it was his blood on Ira. If she had held her own against one of the more powerful demons of hell, as well as convinced two to join her, then maybe she did have potential. In a low growl Balrog stated, ”Balrog will follow. But not bow. Not until you prove worthy.”

@Mega Birb@TheWindel@floodtalon@KoL

“Prove to me you’re a better commander than the Frozen Wretch.”

And just as the new Queen of Hell dare to mutter those very words, a howling wind can be heard gaining momentum, followed by footsteps. An erie mist clouded the outside, the vapors of both the fiery ash and the frigid shards combining as one into a lightly-tinted red-n-black cloud. No doubt did it signify the coming of that very being Ira muttered so coldly at Sliske. A bone-chilling breeze would then fill the entire throne room, followed by an immediate muggy disturbance as the result of the fire and ash coinciding with one another. It was a unique feeling unlike anyone had felt before.

And then, slowly from the mist, the silhouette of the Ice King can be seen, followed by a cold chuckle of pity. This wasn't like the laughs of cheekiness or mischief from the days of Rufus, this was raw and pitiful underneath this new "Queen". And as soon as he appeared fully from the mist, he adjusts his cape-like vest and stands casually in front of Her Majesty with his hands in his pockets. And with a sneer, he chuckles once.

"So..." Ghelgath simply states as he observes the room around him. Sliske seemed to stand firm, yet his hand was in violent erratic movements of pain and misery as the black mist continued to gnaw at his futile attempt to regenerate. On the other side was Henry, the one demon the Lich had partnered on briefly during Hohenheim's games, who seemed to have just gotten over laughing maniacally over something... something like the former's hand. The hulking Barlog seemed to have a nasty expression of displeasure on his face. And then there was Victoire Bordeaux, who didn't seem to give any fuck about the situation at hand. It all didn't matter. As soon as he finished gazing, he looks back at the Queen dead-straight in the eyes.

"This is what has become, huh? You know Queen Ira, I do have to say you indeed have some guts to try and take the throne of good pal' King Rufus, however admirable you want to put it... but did you really have to do it when he was away?"

He pauses for a brief time looking at the room with his hands out as if he's disappointed at something.

"I mean really? No final fight with him? No epic climatic battle to see who's the strongest and all? Pffft... that's pathetically low. You claim the throne, but with no proof to show your worth? No head to plop on your throne? I mean, I hear your all, super strong and such apparently, but c'mon man, your making this into some kinda joke. We just left for some silly little game for a couple o' hours and already you guys are fighting for the throne?"

Ghelgath pauses to simply laugh right in her face for a few seconds before gaining back his composure.

"O-Oh boy... you see that's why you don't see me wannin' to rule. Too much work, too much chaos. Probably gonna get assassinated on my inauguration day or something, if the heat doesn't kill me first..."

Then, a thundering stomp can be heard outside, followed by a pitter-patter of rapidly approaching footsteps. Ghelgath simply smiled.

"But I ain't here to rule," the Ice Lich looks up with a devilish smirk, "I aint here to take any thrones for myself."

And out from the mist, an army of newly created Ice demons emerge from the windy chaos, along with several regular incubi, succubi and Imp units. A unit of Frigid Soldiers emerge from the mists first, followed by several Ice Mages, with three giant Frozen Golems hulking in the background, and lastly an Ice Sergeant stops behind Ghelgath with his staff at the ready. The Lich King had a whole army at his command, at least a section of it, enough to hopefully subdue this new found Queen. Yet he isn't simply relying on them. He looks around at the rest of the units, the subordinates of the Queen.

"Those who disapprove or challenge Ira's rule," Ghelgath says to the rest, "May you all stand here." He shows his hand to his side. These demons, his friends, comrades, he sensed heavy displeasure with this new Queen. And if they wanted to challenge her, to prove her worth, now is the chance,
"And those who stand with her... well, may King Rufus spare your already damned soul."

He continues to hold his Ice Axe, ready to see how many will side with Rufus... and to those who somehow in their right mid side with the new Queen.

"If you say you're fit to rule..." the Lich King says one last time at Ira defiantly, "How about we put that to the test, eh? Waddya say?"

"Ok, come on, why are you hesitating Miyu. All you want to do is ask a simple question." Hiding clumsily behind a hedge, gazing up at Ciel upon her balcony, was the Honorless Blade, sometimes called Traitor Angel, Miyu, and she wanted to know what stars were.

"Urg, I'll just come off as a pesky fan or something! Well, I guess I am technically a fan in this case of her celestial knowledge. But why is this a hard question? This feels like a "why is iron heavy" question of astral phenomena. Why did none of the angels I asked know what stars are and why we can see them at night, but not at the boundary of the Nexus? They all direct me to the absolute foremost expert in the Nexus. I mean, is that question that hard? I mean, someone's got to have a teleportation or remote viewing spell so they could just look, and like, aren't Celestial Spirits supposed to like, be them or be from them or something? How could no one but her know?" Miyu, sratched at her hair in confusion, resting her chin on a shrubbery. An angel behind her gave a similar confused glance at what Miyu was doing pressed up against a hedge, before shrugging and continuing to walk past.

"Maybe it's a really super easy dumb question and they're all assuming I'm just asking it to get to meet Ciel? But it's not like there's a line of people or anything, seems pretty easy to meet her, could just fly up there and all. Which is weird seeing that my research shows she's pretty popular. Maybe all the rest of her fans are considerate not to bother her all the time, unlike what I'm going to do of suddenly introducing myself and then asking what will inevitably be a dumb question that wastes her time." Miyu's brow furrowed as she continued deeper and deeper into the spirals of pointless circular thought.

"Ugh, this feels wierd, why am I bothered about this? I've personally been admonished by the Imperator, and I personally went and talked to Iona.. who is, some kind of important person I guess? I think she's important. What does she actually do again? Something about judging people? Damn, now that I think about, I have no clue what Iona actually does. Maybe she's not important and it's just that smothering aura she gives off that makes me think she's important. Eh, she's probably important, she knows important people. Then again, I for some reason get to be a part of personal audiences with Deva despite being a constant lodestone around the angels neck's in every engagement I join. We finally won one because I died at the start. And what is with how I didn't even get told off for breaking Juno's direct orders, whose orders I was supposed to follow on Deva's direct orders. Rrrrghh, this is so confusing." Miyu slammed her face into the hedge to get a faceful of shrubbery as a replacement for a facepalm.

Coming out and spitting out a small leaf, "And this is probably why my reaction time is so fucked all to to hell, I can't see an incoming move without overthinking of the next three moves of the fight, which never actually achieves anything because they can teleport or move so fast it seems like they can. Stupid Juno, killing me twice.." Miyu grumbles to herself, still not having actually achieved anything in all her overthinking and sidetracking.

"So, do I go up to her and ask, or keep at the problem myself." Miyu stared at Ciel from her "hiding" place, still pondering and pondering. Her brow was furrowed from being focused in running pointless self doubt circles.

@KoL@Awesomoman64@Inner Demon@Mega Birb@Flamelord