True that these halls were a daunting, dark place for any demon, even given their history as darker creatures themselves, but nonetheless they belonged to the True Cross and such was to be expected from the humans themselves. Marble plated walls and a stretch of staircase aligning his left, along with the gentle thud of practiced feet pacing their route down the stone floor, and the overhanging chandeliers that were supposedly eloquent in their own mundane manner. Everything was bronze and brown as though aged leather even though the humans strove to decorate it so significantly. But still… the atmosphere was different, very different, compared to Gehenna. Had they been walking down a hall from his and Samael’s realm there would be undoubtedly nothing but a sharp emptiness. Perhaps it was to be marveled at, for some, but not for dear Lucifer.
Blue military jacket was adorned, the same uniform donned by the Illumanati that he had set being now worn, only he was able to wear it without the usual mask this one time. Since the recovery of his vessel he was more than contented to walk around just the way that he was even amiss the public eye. Soon the decay that scorned his flesh may return, but for now, he was presumably safe. Not that he would be judged anyway at the end of the day. He was who he was, and he would sooner strike fear into the hearts of others rather than invite their shunning of his condition if they saw the influence his corrupted flesh had when the illness took over. It didn’t arise any questions, thankfully, but his vessel’s condition had whirled a few whispers a while ago before he had awoken more pure and recovered. If ‘pure’ was even the correct term to apply when referring to these beseeching meat suits.
…
The silence was grating, even if normally his solitude.
…
The speech would be conjured soon.
…
It wasn’t within his nature to glance over his shoulder; Lucifer carried himself in a demure sense, he looked only ahead albeit never behind, and any presence following him was one that was always expected to do so when he had as much authority as he did. Despite that, he stared over from his left, fixating those emerald orbs on those of his brother. Samael seemed as lax as ever. A mere game, that was all it was to the younger sibling. But nor could the King of Light blame him- he, too, saw these circumstances as nothing but child’s play.
“I was told Rin Okumura would be present courtesy of your request.”
The words were left to linger, that straightforward, even tone presenting nothing but small talk to loosen the tensions strung in the air. A reply would be anticipated from Samael, since it was all to his knowledge that the King of Time had an invested interest in the prodigal Okumura, but as for what the answer was, he could care less. The blonde turned back to gaze ahead after the remark was left hanging in the air and ensured that he reverted back to the straightened poise, as if marching in on a war, not a simple meeting.
No worry was there though- humans, for all their regulations and campaigns, were still going to live in fear of the eighth king’s organization. No terms set by the Cross could change Lucifer’s mind. They expected him to make a speech of his own accord after entry, but there was never any indication that it was going to go well. They assume he degrees to pose no threat, but any wise man would know otherwise in every literal sense. Samael knows it as do the others.
“Let us do well not to go easy on each other, as always, Samael.”
Some part of himself pondered what Father would think- them playing games like this, using both worlds as chess boards and Assiah’s beings as toys all for the sake of striving for ‘peace’, tranquility. But then wasn’t this always how things had been. Their values, sadly, never changed. Samael was indeed a traitor of sorts to Gehenna for that. Apparently so was the youngest addition- no doubt his brother had swayed him to side with the humans, too. Unfortunate, really, that the other failed to see sense. Conflicting.
{ ♚. —-
Optics dragged smoothly over surroundings with a guarded eye, the light echo of feathered steps ricocheting through the descendant of corridors in correspondence with each dark thought and downward curve of lip. It could be said that Pheles was reluctant to be here, solemn expression being coerced into casual one so as not to let the elder brother be outright aware of the current mood.
Falsity, though a common exchange between the two, was something they both despised in one another’s eyes when accompanying each other according to prior experience, and so it was best to remain as sonorously honest in posture as possible. Sure, he thought the other’s presence revolting in one respect, but apparently it was perceived impolite to act negatively in the shadow of an elder brother; hence, Mephisto Pheles would have to masquerade in pretending to be content. Even if, despite not presenting it on the exterior, he was sorely discouraged with the eldest crawling under his skin at such close proximity and unrequited sibling authority. Months, even years may have passed, but there was never any pleasure in being confronted by the royal of light; not when tensions still remained.
Let the humans of the Order think themselves in control. There may be a Paladin, and there may be the elders, but the persuasive charmed words of the time-devil’s twisted tongue would keep them strictly on a set path, one of which they were piteously unaware of. It may seem as if this is a war of the True Cross and the famed Illumanati, but of course, Mephisto would be pulling strings through honeyed words as every mastermind puppeteer does. The fools were riddled with illusions of trickery from him, and yet they still relied on his every ounce of omniscient advice.
So where was he and Lucifer going?
Ah, the hall. It was a meeting of sorts. Supposedly.
Hues did not meet Lucifer’s for long when confronted with that gaze. Irises were slits, pupils narrowed. A glare, almost. A glare, had it not been for his cheshire expression.
This building was most impressive with its vast hallway accommodating five hundred people. But nothing of which a scale he had not seen before, both Assiah and otherwise. This was the headquarters, of which centered their wannabe-dictators and judges, the puppets soon to be influenced by Mephisto’s strings, and the victims of his latest gamble. It would also be where Lucifer would make his announcement. For whatever his reasons.
Oh?
Rin was not something he had expected the other to mention. Alas, it was evidently a jab at the authenticity that Samael had little control over him anymore—-
❝Do try not to wrap our younger brother in this.❞
The words were simplicity; a warning.
Mephisto uttered the words quietly, voice iced with the usual faux politeness that was so sickeningly sweet one could tell it was almost venomous. The Okumura was perhaps blinded by his sense of justice, but even the hardiest of demons had been snared by Lucifer’s speeches. In a sense, the thought was discomforting, but Mephisto believed that even Rin’s beliefs could waver in the face of the most influential man of Gehenna if the ascended king pressured the possibility.
❝He is, after all, still under my wing.❞
As had been agreed with Satan himself. He had previously sent Amaimon to establish this to his paternal relation before; but mentioning that fact would be a reminder to the blonde vessel of his close guidance concerning the Okumura. Just because there was little control did not mean he had no control. It could be said that Samael was eager to express this fact.
Arguably, he was like any younger sibling; always looking to have his achievements noticed by the elder, though Mephisto would never enforce this idea at all if asked so. The king of time turns to no one for recognition in his own eyes — he already has it by the people of Assiah.
It was then that doors opened and eyes switched to them after Samael had made this clear, and he raised his head, meeting each and every stare with that plastered smile he so quaintly had mastered for all these years. They were in the open — and like in any chess game, the eldest makes his move first, respectfully.
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