Drip...



It was dark, yet everything here could see. It was silent, but deafening to any mortal that tread here. Not even the ones who were from here liked it...

...and that's the reason they were there.

The deepest pit of hell, Tartarus by the Greeks, but it was far worse. What does a demon fear the torture of? Being forgotten. This was a devil's hell, and not one being enjoyed being here. Not even the most deranged entity in existence.

This was the fate of the Seven Deadly Sins, or the Cardinal Vices formally. They were the stars of hell, brought low. Now they endured in a cave system in hell's trashcan. They survived of wandering soul's vices, but little did they know that they had a friend still. A thin demon with bat's wings, red eyes, grey stony skin, and a unholy sash showing his allegiance watched them from above. This was Neromus the Gargoyle. He had orders, now he had to fill them. But he needed to wait on the mortal.

For now, watching the sins bicker was enough.

(Now you all make your first posts. No doubling up. H=Give everyone a chance.)

And so begins our reclamation.

Getrus seethed.

All the world boiled in his vision, the inky blackness quivering in awe of his fury as it danced before his eyes. His words were taut, snared like flesh across the war drums that once bellowed his reckoning. The squelching crack of skulls split on crags, the shrieks wretched forth from the deepest recesses of his stalwart foes, a cacophony to herald the coming of Wrath. Now there was only silence. Deep, insidious silence. There were no sacrifices in his name, none to drink long from the blood of his enemies. His forces had abandoned him for another, one who had not clawed from the ash to reshape Hell in its image. No, this New Wrath was of spite and trickery, one who relied on the magic of Greater Demons.

Getrus seethed.

How he loathed those cowards and weaklings who relied on the Black Magicks. As a Lesser Demon by birth, Getrus had neither the gifts nor the aptitude to learn and relied only on his own martial prowess to secure his supremacy; a trait his legions once admired above all else. Now they flock to the rank and file of some malignant upstart. He gazed around him at the other Sins, a pitiful group of Greaters but he had waged war with less. Lust, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, Pride...it wouldn't be easy to defeat them all if they didn't take the bait but if he intended to reclaim his position he would need an army.

Listen to me now. I have waged war for millennia. I have dammed the river Styx with the corpses of mine enemy. Stand beside me and we shall retake Hell.

It was a gamble. Pride would not be so easily swayed nor would the envious hound stand to see another in command. He only hoped its sister's Greed could convince it the prize was worth the hunt.

Getrus smirked.

The Black Dog was infamous among the Sins for it coveted their Magic as well as their station. What a cruel surprise when the beast learns Getrus has nothing to offer... His boiling gaze hovered across those gathered beneath the dripping stalactites, cast to the deepest depths. They had no where to go but up.

Ag'thal - the Sin of Greed

---

It had been too long since Ag'thal had had a taste of abundance. Forgotten, humiliated, cast away with these other lesser beings, her sisters and brothers. None of them had ambition quite as burning as she did, none of them deserved to get out of here quite as bad as she did.
In the empty corridors, dark and void of life, wandered Ag'thaliagh't'ar, the forgotten sin of Greed. A position once so powerful had crumbled before her eyes, ungrateful newer demons forcing her to retreat here with all of the other sins.

Bulging eyes, darker than antimatter, blinked and looked around in the cave. Hair wispy like dark fog, fingers long and sharp with fangs. Ag'thal was bored, oh, so bored. She had been laying low for long enough, she thought with a flippant scoff; it was time to act. Being here, where the buzzing noise was too loud to bear and silent at the same time, it was unlike any other place Ag'thal had been. And she hated it, loathed it. Walking around with bored yawns coming out of her many, beastly mouths, Ag'thal happened to come across her brother.
Ah, Wrath, it is. The demon angrier than any other - a dear brother, in fact. Ag'thal's many mouths curved into sharp, teeth-baring smiles as she heard her fellow outcast.

"Why, Gertus. Perhaps out of all of our siblings, I always despised you the least. No matter," Ag'thal cooed, voices coming out with echoes as all her mouths spoke in unision yet slightly off beat. She circled closer to her brother, devious smile dancing on her many mouths. One mouth poked out a sharp, dark tongue; long and greedy. All the eyes dotted over Ag'thal's skin were turned on her brother. It was only a formality, of course. Demons were not related. But you could consider it a gesture of respect, even though Ag'thal's intentions were never anything but for her own gain. "Your goal isn't high enough, dear brother. Why retake Hell when there are realms beyond? My next conquest shall be the mortal realm; I shall not settle for any less," she finished at last, coming to a natural halt.
Ag'thal had always been very well-spoken. There was always a small air of superiority to her, like she felt she was above everyone. Now, looking at the sin of Wrath, Gertus, Ag'thal could only see someone whose position she could take, had she wanted it. Now, her goals were much higher, her ambition fuelling her insatiable greed. Out of all of her fellow sins, she'd always thought Gertus had the most to accomplish, after her, of course. Out of the others, she'd always hated Lust the least. Pride, she thought, was someone she could say she almost respected. Gluttony and Envy, on the other hand, she'd found as disgraceful shadow images of her own power, goals tainted by some humanlike emotion like envy for others, or hunger for food. This was her own take on it, of course. But Ag'thal had always thought she was ultimately right. And Sloth... she didn't even consider Sloth an entity worth her time. If the sins were supposed to be her equals - which she obviously thought they weren't - Sloth certainly got the short end of the stick from her.

Mag'mora - Lust

---

“How ... terribly drab this place is...” A bored, well-educated and feminine voice rang out from the darkness, followed by the unmistakable sound of high heeled shoes on the damp stone floor of their prison.

Click, click, click.

A humanoid form stepped forward. Blonde hair, red lips, an hourglass figure wrapped taut by a short crimson dress. Her dark eyes were cast downward to better examine the black polished nails of her upturned hand. Her eyes flicked up as though only just noticing the presence of the others.

“Gertus.” She greeted, her voice like smooth velvet. “I might almost mistake you for Pride with those high aspirations of yours. Retake hell? Darling, they’ve moved on.”

To the many mouths of Greed, Mag’mora slowly turned on a heel.

“Ah, Ag’thal... well, you are looking positively delectable, my dear!” She cooed to the beast that any human might weep at in their wildest nightmares. Demons had a different sort of taste, however. The Sin of Lust extended one of her pale hands toward the creature, but instead of a slender finger, she attempted to caress Ag’thal’s form with a tendril of shadow-- a hint at her true nature. She tsk’d softly with this motion, intending it to be soothing. Comforting and loving. Like a mother consoling their child.

“My sweet, while I do adore your most lofty of goals, what realm have we access to?” She purred, seeming to conjure a black seat for her to settle into. Upon closer inspection, it was all her: some of her formed of shadows, some of human flesh, giving the appearance (at first glance, at least) of a woman resting on a chair.

“I’m afraid this is where The Forgotten sink to.” Her lips formed into a cute little pout and her lashes fluttered as if she might just cry. “Though it is heartening at least to see you two here. How dreadful it would be to wait out eternity all on my lonesome.”

So, Wrath and Greed show their faces. She suspected the others would not be far behind. Each powerful in their own right, though Mag’mora felt that some wielded their force better than others. She always felt a sort of pure bond with Envy and Greed, so she hoped to find Shael’vol tailing them soon. Sloth tended not to get in the way, and she could certainly see the desire for creature comforts on some occasions. Gluttony’s voracious nature paired well with Lust also. The duo could inflict some real damage, mental or physical, if they chose. Wrath and Pride: the blockheads of the sins, at least in Lust’s mind. Where Sloth caused inaction, they spurred poor decisions and underestimation. Foolish, but perhaps useful.

“Do you suppose the others are here? Our brethren?” Her voice gained a hopeful lilt as she peered into the darkness.

The Black Hound seethed to himself. How dare these upstarts come and take what was rightfully his, and everything that he had plotted and schemed for. He was the rightful sin of Envy, how dare these lowly mongrels even come close to his rightful throne. The dark and dreary hole that the Forgotten of Hell find themselves in did nothing to ease the dissuade these feelings in Shael as he skulked around the darkness seething about his dethronement when his fellow sins came into view.

Wrath, Greed, and Lust. So he wasn't the only one cast into this inky pit and left to rot. Almost if by instinct alone he anger turned from his situation to the the other Sins. Their power belonged to him and if he had what was rightfully his then he wouldn't have been cast into this pit in the first place. Greed especially took a toll on his psyche, she that was so similar to himself. She shouldn't be allowed to bear the title of Greed...it rightfully belonged to him.

”So It seems that I wasn't the only one overthrown. Oh how the mighty have fallen eh’ Wrath?”

The great and mighty conqueror tsk what a joke. Such an inferior demon to wield such a title. If he had his power oh the fun that could be had. But that would have to wait for another day.

”And why wear that ridiculous disguise here in the Pit, Lust? It doesn't suite a demon to wear something so weak and pathetic here…”

Ag'thal - Greed

---

From the shadows merged the one and only Lust, speak of the devil. A few dozen of Ag'thal's eyes turned to observe her while the rest kept their gaze fixed on Wrath, almost beckoning them to get mad. She didn't need to provoke the angry sin more, however, because Lust took it upon herself to finish the job. A hissing laughter echoed from Greed's abomination of a form, mouths grinning with sharp teeth exposed, dark tongues poking out like snakes from a rubble. She wholeheartedly agreed with the demon who'd taken a human form of an attractive woman; Hell was a lost cause.

“Ah, Ag’thal... well, you are looking positively delectable, my dear!” Lust greeted Ag'thal at least, extending a snippet of her true form to stroke along Ag'thal's mutilated form. Lust's hand passed through Ag'thal's wispy, smoke-like hair, stroking the creature's cheek comfortingly. One of her mouths let out almost a purring sound, while another hissed in displeasure. Overall, however, the gesture was well recieved. Ag'thal relaxed and let her countless eyes drop closed, six clawed arms falling to her sides.
“My sweet, while I do adore your most lofty of goals, what realm have we access to?” the demon continued in an overtly tacky sweet voice, all the while making herself a seat of sorts.
"A way shall present itself to me, one way or another. I've yet to encounter an obstacle I can't overcome," Ag'thal mused in a wistful voice, an underlaying smugness seeping through. She also took a seat, letting her strong tail hold her up from the ground like a royal chair. Wispy tendrils of Greed's hair floated in the darkness, seeming to absorb any light around it like a black hole. The demon listened to Lust as she talked, her being relaxing further in the presence of her more favoured associates.

Then arrived Envy, seething as always. Just seeing him made Ag'thal smile in smugness. Listening to the Black Hound talk, words veiled with mockery, Ag'thal couldn't feel more malignant towards him.
"Envious as always, I see... I'm positively surprised that you haven't turned green yet, Shael," Ag'thal sniggered with an amused tone, a little belittling, for sure. How pathetic, Ag'thal thought. Even in their presence it was obvious the only thing Shael'Vol wanted was what was not his.
"See, that's the difference between you and me. You're all 'want, want, want' while I..." she trailed off, not in any hurry to finish, "I just take it all," she finished, more than just a little self-satisfied.
She didn't feel bad for being so cold and malicious. That's how demons were. But Ag'thal in particular, well... she'd never been able to feel empathy. Nor happiness, nor satisfaction. All she'd ever felt was greed, that insatiable hunger for everything. She wanted it all, and instead of growing bitter over wanting, she eventually also took; kept conquering, kept taking. She had yet to feel a single flake of remorse or regret over her actions. She even went as far as to think she was incapable of fully loving anything, of feeling anything but greed. It was sort of a curse, really. Something Ag'thal could think about when she was roaming these empty pits, reflecting on her life. She felt no remorse, but she did feel boredom. And she did yearn for something more. If it was only her greed, or an actual emotion, she couldn't say.
"I do have to say it is an odd choice of form, Lust," Ag'thal added. As much as she didn't like admitting it, Envy was right. The form was beautiful and lustful by human standards, but to a demon it didn't signal the same things as it did to a human. "Are you planning on joining me on my quest for the mortal realm, dear? That disguise would surely hold in the world of humans."

The mortals...?

The dark cowered as leathery wings unfurled, banishing the black with their blazing crimson hue. Of course... Getrus had always favored the mortals, beasts that build only to destroy. Savages in verdant lands that live only to conquer their domain. They embodied all Sins but by their very nature exalted Wrath. Insectoid eyes flicked to his brother for but a moment. Perhaps Mag'mora was right...perhaps the fall had pushed the noble warrior to prideful pursuits...

Getrus was pulled from such thoughts as the snarling one inched closer, as if the very thought of acquiring Pride's station was enough to summon the Hound of Envy. I stand before you not of coup but of deceit. My men were swayed to vile testament by the promise of another's power. Of all creatures I would presume you might understand. His words were cold, calculated; the tactician's mind that had been honed over countless routs and retreats stood in stark contrast to the furious reputation he had carved in the very stone.

Mag'mora. You shroud your daggers in a den of blade. Besides, is not the reason of such covert to "blend in"? Getrus' wings cocooned tightly around his body, the squelching of flesh heard within. A few moments later they began to shrink and fall away until they had all but withered uncovering the balding man now stood before them.

I call him Jerry.

@WittyReference@Cio@Archangel89@Lilaen

"Convincing, lord of wrath. Your foray would be pointless though, for you don't know a way out."

Neromus dropped down into the cave, upside down. He hung on a stalactite, grinning devilishly. His stony body and glowing yellow eyes would frighten any normal demon, for gargoyles hunted evil things, but he wore an unholy sash, meaning his master was a witch. He looked at the lord of lust and licked his lips, then turned back to Getrus. "And you know this to be true, don't you me'lord?" He dropped down, landing on all of his claws, then he rose up and hunched over, using his wing like a shroud.
He circled a little before crouching on the floor, with his arms holding his upper body up so as to not strain his neck. He picked his teeth before again looking at the sins present. "The other sins have already realized that fact, and took the deal." He grinned again at lust.

---

Envy. Such a spiteful creature.

Mag’mora gave an exaggerated eye roll to the Black Hound’s comment on her appearance, though she seemed to humor him as slits formed in her alabaster flesh and it split then sloughed off of her form, leaving something only remotely humanoid in its wake. Lust, at heart, was a creature of the shadows. It sulked, wings coiled about itself as it hunched over.

“It is my prerogative to entertain myself as I please here, Shael’vol.” His name was spoken in a chiding manner but not from a pleasant feminine tone anymore. Now the voice was raspy and harsh. “Does this suit you better? Or maybe I should take the form of some grub or toadstool, so that you need not idolize and hate me for my beauty.” These words were almost spat out as Lust leered at him from a face that was nearly all long, spindly yellowed teeth.

This strange maw turned to face Ag’thal once again, and now two wide, pale eyes bubbled up from the black wispy flesh to fix on her. Thin, almost reptilian lips slid over the teeth to soften to expression. “You have designs on the mortal realm, Ag’thal?” Lust rumbled in thought. “Yes, that would certainly be preferable to this purgatory. The humans have much in the way of desires for us to toy with... Hm.”

As Getrus spoke once again, and revealed a human form of his own, Mag’mora’s feminine laughter returned, though it might seem odd as it erupted not from pert lips but a beast of shadows. Her laughter was pleasant. Cheerful. Not mocking, for once.

“Quite delightful, brother.” Lust intoned to Wrath, referencing their familiarity to one another perhaps as a tribute of peace. The shadow creature stretched itself out, rising to a height of about twelve feet as sheer, ashen wings unfurled, fluttered, then fell into place again and the creature condensed once again to about seven feet tall. She regarded Getrus. “Though personally I was quite fond of those wings of yours... the human disguise would do nicely if we simply had a method of passing from one plane to another.”

Almost on cue, then came Neromus’ chittering voice. Lust peered at the gargoyle with suspicion. Nothing good ever came of a gargoyle.

“What deal, whelp?” Mag’mora snapped, betraying her own cool demeanor to reveal her impatience. "If you mean to imply that there is a way to depart this den of tedium, then out with it."

@Lilaen@WittyReference@Cio@Archangel89

He grinned at Mag'mora, for her impatience was what he was looking for. "Well, it's simple. My master wishes to use a large sum of dark magic to bring you to her world. However, not to conquer it as you might think. She will give you a year. A year of dealing with mortal challenges and issues, whilst dealing with your normal supernatural ones, in which she will help you in some situations. Should all of you fail to do so, you won't learn a lesson that could get your thrones back, if that's what you wish at the end of the year." He looked at the others while he said this, and stopped on her for dramatic effect. He grinned at her in a way that would make a human's skin crawl. "What do you say, Sin of Lust?"

Ag'thal - Greed

---

Ag'thal's mouths frowned with disgust at the name. Neromus. Oh, how convinient. Lust, ever so quick to react, beat Ag'thal to questioning the creature. Simply observing with a foul expression and a dozen pitch black pupils staring at the winged creature, Ag'thal hoped for an answer that would be of use to her. However, she ended up recieving more questions than answers.
A year? Not to conquer, but dwell among the scum of the earth? Well... Ag'thal couldn't say she hated humans. In fact, she felt herself strangely drawn to them, even. She supposed she'd always had a bit of an soft spot for those fragile beings that embodied all of the Sins in such neat packages. Still, the Sin of Greed couldn't help but scoff at the creature with the deal, one of her many hands propping under her chin to bring stability.
"And what will your beloved 'Master' get out of it? I've got a reason to suspect she might not be offering this deal just out of the good of her heart," Ag'thal's whispery voices questioned, her smokey, cloud-esque hair moving around her head like an entity of its own.
To Heaven with not conquering. I might as well just take the deal and do as I please, Ag'thal thought to herself in snobbish fashion, nostrils flaring at the thought.

"Besides, what makes your Master think I want to reclaim my position on the throne? This place has long rejected us, not a place worthy of my time and power. Yet here you are, suggesting we might want to learn this precious lesson of yours. But whatever happens if we 'fail'? Ag'thal continued, jumping down from her propped up tail and walking around the creature. Ag'thal's numerous, sharp teethed mouths, all curious to taste Neromus' flesh. All her eyes eager to see an act slip up and reveal a scam underneath. All of her monstrous, dragon-like snouts breathing in the smell of the intruder. She was intriqued, but also planning. Ag'thal was coming up with a plan that would enable her to do what she wanted, not what some other entity did. She could use this opportunity to play along their little game, but in the end she would free herself and rise to take everything the mortal realm had to present her with.
The Sin of Greed paused, looking over at Mag'mora with a curious eye. Then her many eyes switched to Wrath, examining them both. What were they thinking of this?

@Cio@Lilaen@WittyReference@Archangel89

Nemorus looked at Ag'thal with a crooked grin. "Your distrust is warranted, but my master is doing this purely out of the good of her heart. I can't lie, and I'm directly linked with her. But she is curious how you'd fair. As for failure..." He was suddenly very close and in a position not even the sins could do anything to stop him from causing fatal harm to the demon. But Demons came back whilst in hell so she simply had to worry about pain. He gripped her shoulders and whispered in her ears, but all the sins could still hear him. "Then you get lower than even here. With no chance to get higher." He left her side, letting it sink in. He turned back to her with a little twirl. "Plus I never said you had to reclaim your throne at the end of the trial, simply that you could." He went back to crouching on his claws, his wings covering his back and sides.

---

Mag’mora regarded Nemorus suspiciously as the gargoyle spoke, but listened. She began to question just why the creature’s new mistress desired to invite them when Ag’thal spoke up. The Sin of Greed could be insightful when it chose to be, a thought Mag’mora attempted to relay in her shadowy expression as Ag’thal peered over to her with those many eyes.

She scoffed at Nemorus' next words.

“Oh, out of the good of her heart? Hah, I’m so sure!” The shadow beast shook its head then seemed to collapse where it stood, flitting along the grey dirt of this long-forgotten pit as a black haze until it recongealed beside the gargoyle as it latched onto Ag’thal. “That said, I won’t say no. This pudgy little pawn is quite right, brothers, there’s nowhere left but up.” Her shadowy wings fluttered and arm extended to point a singular wispy finger up.

“So let us begin. Call on your master. I desire to meet her and play with the mortals. That would be much preferable to languishing away here for a few millennia...”