Dangerous Liaisons [Etreven/Mammon]

March 15th, 2012
4:25 PM
Regal Necropolis
Sanguine Palace

Ymir was tense.  Etreven had never seen the demon act in any way that couldn't be called completely confident, even arrogant, so the current scenario was an absolute shock.  Granted, the current scenario was designed to put Ymir off guard, but there was at the short term and the long term plan and derailing the demon too greatly would be…problematic.  Still, his cooperation (or at least presence) was absolutely requisite if they were to prevail.  If he was to prevail.  And in the end, that was all that mattered.

The pair stepped slowly and confidently through the crumbling city, Ymir silent and stiff as he followed Etreven.  He wasn't even entirely sure why the demon had consented to facing his mother, because truthfully the reasoning he'd provided had been weak.  They didn't need Mammon's support for their goals, they simply needed her to know the truth behind the organization they had formed before she reacted.  Still it was increasingly clear to him that Ymir desired his mother's approval in the twisted way that demons expressed whatever they had in place of love.  None of those emotions made any impact to Etreven apart from as mechanisms for control, but it was almost comforting to know that powerful occult entities had such similar weaknesses to their mortal counterparts.

For now though the first step of the plan was simple: attract Mammon's attention.

Etreven hadn't yet had to face down an archdemon, but it seemed like practice was in order.  And in this case there were only two outcomes, death or success.  From what he'd heard and seen, the archdemon wasn't a creature to be trifled with.  More worrying perhaps was the disturbing fondness for blood he'd learned Mammon possessed.  Violence was second nature for most demons it seems, but this one had made it into an art form.  If he'd had the capacity to be disturbed, he'd have been so when he passed the first Infernal pub serving Blood Cider.

The steps of the Sanguine Palace were the goal, or more to the point the attention of the barghests patrolling them.  Even if approaching them was another risk, at least it was a calculated one.  Ymir took lead as they came near, approaching his mother's pet.  Oh yes, it was most certainly going to recognize him.  "Tell my mother I've come home.

Mmm…. what a week this was turning out to be…. Or was it even the same week anymore?  Mammon certainly wasn't sure.  Michael's features kept turning about in her mind ever since that… event.  Tense as it was.  And for as much as she hated it as well.  However, she was now relatively calm as she was trying to plan how best to prepare for what they knew was coming.  She had almost debated remaining behind to speak with Lucifer, but then again, she was sure all her siblings had thought of doing something similar. And if she knew her Lord, then he wouldn't need their company in the least bit.  He would need his time alone to THINK.  They all needed that because they would all need to be on their best in order to welcome home their former brothers and sisters.

She could sense the ever shifting amounts of beings that were in her realm, three snuffing themselves out as another two entered.  It was all in the peripheral as she stared down at the grounds as her pups chased after a couple of Leapers that futily tried to escape them despite the chains that were attached to their bodies.  Her pets needed entertainment and proper training.  They could sense how their mistress was on edge.  Her hair floated in slow undulations about her head before flicking about in two or three swift motions, resuming the slow movements as those golden eyes narrowed.  She saw how one or two stopped to sniff the air, immediately turning and running around the yard back towards the front gates.  Visitors…?  She wasn't expecting anyone--

She paused as she stared with slightly widened eyes down at her remaining pups that had now also stopped to sniff the air.  They also turned and high tailed it towards the entrance, barking at the being that she knew could not be there at all.  There was simply no way.  Her body whipped about and strode down the hall, down the stairs, her wings spread out behind her as they flapped a couple of times in agitation.  No.  She would not accept this to be truth because there was simply no way that it could have happened.  The front doors to her palace burst open to reveal the Queen of the Regal Necropolis atop the stairs with her black dress clinging to her body, thorn tattoos shifting on her arms and a brilliant shimmering to those golden eyes.  Crimson was beginning to leak in as her feet brushed against the ground towards the two figures that stood now at her gates and upon her ground.  

Her son was standing before her.

Her eyes were wide in a shocked sort of rage, wings outstretching to the point of almost hyperextension, hair completely still about her head as the color of blood took over her eyes.  Her gaze bore into Ymir as he stood there all wisps and smoke, the light about them seeming to grow darker while a red haze appeared to glint about her form.  Her Barghests fur all stood on end, the flames of them roaring as their growls filled the air.  "You should not be here.  Dearest Son of mine."  Just her head turned to stare at Etreven, sensing the blood that filled both of their forms, her eyes narrowing slightly while a smile twisted that perfect, olive face.  "I don't believe we've met.  And you are?" It was not often that a mortal breached her realm though she had no shortage of cultists that longed for her attention. This... This was something else.

The palace Etreven viewed before him was an unexpected bastion of class and luxury nestled at the center of the blighted and decrepit cityscape they had traversed to arrive here.  The unexpected juxtaposition of blood on white and marble, gilt and sinew and bone and iron…all of it was disturbingly beautiful and practically radiated the power and prestige of the demon who occupied the place.  It would have intimidated Etreven had he been capable of being intimidated.  As the Queen of the Necropolis burst through the doors of that sanguine palace, Etreven stood stock still, unflinching and unwavering.  It wasn't resolve that drove him but necessity, ambition and confidence.

As she strode to the top of the stairs her power practically radiated over him.  He might not fear her, but somewhere in its primordial essence his blood knew the terror of the demon before him and he could feel it.  She was radiant and terrible, and as she strode toward them there was the smallest bit of Etreven that felt impressed.  Yet somewhere was the knowledge that whatever she was, whatever power she held?  It came ultimately from something greater than herself, and in the greater balance of the universe that something could always seek to recall what it had given.  His face remained empty even as the thoughts raced through his head.

Ymir, meanwhile, was all but frozen.  The demon was not afraid, that much was clear.  But neither was he himself.  And yet it was all expected.  Once they'd gathered her attention it was Etreven's opportunity to speak, and he was not going to provide a window of opportunity to allow what semblance of emotion Ymir might retain for the archdemon to color this interaction.  Mammon was potentially a powerful ally or a terrible, terrible foe and there was simply too much at stake to let unadulterated pride take command of this conversation.

"You should not be here. Dearest Son of mine." spoke the demon as she strode directly towards them.  Ymir did not flinch at her words, but he did take a step back away from his mother.  He knew the plan and had consented to follow it, but that depended very much on how much attention Etreven could divert.

And then her gaze turned to him…good.  It meant he had a chance to keep her focus, but he would need to think fast and know when to beat a hasty retreat.  Like on his chess boards, the queen was a piece to be feared as much as it was a potent tool and he was not prepared to sacrifice the game in a poorly planned move.

"I don't believe we've met. And you are?"  The narrow eyes and twisted smile were telling.  She was curious and it was the first edge he had to grip on.  Etreven took a step forward, making it a point to retain a regal posture and an open stance toward the demon.  He needed to appear impressive but non-threatening.  Powerful but not aggressive.  It was a difficult balance to strike, but a dance he had been doing for as long as he could recall.  He didn't shrink back, shy away or in any way diminish.  No, he spoke his reply in a clear, uninterrupted voice to the fallen angel before him.

"You may call me Etreven, and as for your child?  He is here because of me, and even so only in part.  Through the void he joined to my essence, bound only in part as he stands chained beneath the Stygian Tundra.  And we stand before you not as enemies but as potential allies.  Though the steps of your palace might not be the best place to discuss…"

It was a start…and a good one, provided both of them survived the next few moments.

The mortal before her…. She received no information from his cardio-vascular system about him. Nothing in his appearance. Nothing… The man may as well have been as devoid as Legion was of a true soul or anything. He was hollow. Empty. Boring. Her son, on the other hand…. She had pointedly noticed how he had taken a step back upon her addressing him. GOOD He had to be WELL aware of what he was doing by DARING to show his cursed face here. After what he had attempted to do? It was only because he was her dearest son that she had not obliterated him that day. Yet that was not where her eyes were resting at the moment. At the moment she was examining the mortal that had accompanied the wisp of her son to her palace, her home. Not just her realm, but her palace where she resided. She wasn't sure if she should feel insulted… or curious. Currently, a well-checked anger was all the prominence.

"You may call me Etreven, and as for your child?  He is here because of me, and even so only in part.  Through the void he joined to my essence, bound only in part as he stands chained beneath the Stygian Tundra. Halfway through that sentence, her skin seemed to darken as she looked to glare absolute daggers into Ymir, that horrendous sense of her power stretching to a thin string that threatened to break. He could slip his essence out? She could feel a prickling of pride at his cleverness for he was the product of her and Lucifer, but the simple AUDACITY he had to come here…. Her hounds growled, one snarling as it half-lunged towards them, but did not actually attack. Her pups were as upset as their mistress. The flare lasted all of a couple of seconds, immediately quieting back to that strained tension that practically vibrated in the air as she stared deeply into Etreven. He was not able to escape however, he had needed to bind himself to a human in order to do regain any more of his strength… Nonetheless… "And we stand before you not as enemies but as potential allies.  Though the steps of your palace might not be the best place to discuss…"

A single, perfect eyebrow raised as she glanced between the two of them, the crimson fading away as gold swam back into her eyes, her gaze lingering upon her son. The tension also seemed to dissipate as her Barghests snuffed and all but two turned to head back into the palace behind them. She was quiet for a moment, her wings folding behind her back while her hair undulated in slow, gentle motions. And though her demeanor would have dictated her next motion was to offer a slight smile, her expression did not change. "I expect your best behavior Ymir. I don't doubt your pet here has been well trained. Come." Without another word, she whipped about and strode in long strides back into her home without waiting to see them follow. She knew they would follow because they had a damned good reason for being here. There was no other explanation. Her son would not risk what progress he had made over these many years just to come and have himself end up snuffed out again.

She strode into one of the many drawing rooms within her palace, the screams and cries of those being tortured below echoing up and through the halls. A little girl bowed to them as she opened the door for her mistress. Marina. The light was gone from her eyes as she offered a little smile to the woman that had saved her life. Mammon did not smirk or smile as she normally would have, gesturing for Ymir and Etreven to go in first. Her two pups lingered behind them in the doorway, one clearly following them all in while the other whined slightly. She shot it a look, and it bowed its head, trotting away down the hallway to relay her orders to the kitchens below. She might be fucking pissed, but she would not be a bad hostess.

It was a smaller room, but the decor did not lack a single desire of her beautifully twisted palace. Comfortable couches with ornate crimson cushions sewn into shiny smooth onyx stone. There was a low coffee table, small pianoforte in the corner and great curtains that hung before the windows. "Please, sit." She did not bother with the friendly tone, but there was civility because that was the baseline importance. She turned and smoothed out her skirt, taking the wing chair in the room that faced the other seats, clasping her hands as her elbows rested on the arms of the chair. Her wings seemed to shrink and fold inwards to an impossible smallness. But that golden gaze bore into both of them. "Now," Her remaining pup laid down at her feet, seeming lazy and tired except for the fact that its gaze remained as alert and attentive as ever upon her guests. "Do explain this "potential alliance" for I am VERY curious what cause has brought you here today. And why you would risk your very freedom, my child."

Somewhere inside the compartmentalized and fragmented imitation of a personality Etreven actually possessed, the man was aware that he should be terrified.  The thought tucked back into an analysis of the situation that created the very masks he often wore, and the part he could draw upon to know how a normal human being might react told him so.  That part was promptly ignored.  It was useless information in this situation.  All that truly mattered was the next step forward, which meant act or die trying.  The archdemon was staring at him as he spoke, the tension hanging like a heavy fog.  She was actually astonished, though whether it was due to the nature of Ymir's escape or more obviously the sheer audacity of their entrance to her realm was currently beyond him.

In truth, it didn't matter.  All that was required was to keep themselves alive and keep her interest long enough that they could get to the point of the matter.  The truth was that Ymir was not free, and at the height of his power he had failed to destroy his mother.  This was meaningful information to Etreven and he was sure Mammon was quite aware of this.  Destroying them both would be trivial, and thus he hoped uninteresting when there was something more substantial on the table.  He was incapable of hope, but the truth was that this plan required something of luck.  Perhaps he'd been inspired by Jean, but it seemed that risk and reward weighed heavily here, and this particular play made the reward more than worth the risk.

"I expect your best behavior Ymir. I don't doubt your pet here has been well trained. Come."

She was petty.  He should have expected it, but somehow it seemed to make her smaller.  For a being of such power, it didn't seem necessary.  Then again, wanton cruelty had never seemed a useful trait unless deployed as a tool towards a particular end and yet demons often wallowed in such acts.  He preferred purpose.  Then again, when one lacks the capacity to actually enjoy anything…

Before he had time to complete his thought she'd strode off.  She wanted them to follow her, which meant delving deeper into the den of the beast.  It was dangerous, but necessary.  The information they intended to share needed to be contained and the steps of the sanguine palace were not the place to do so.  Either way, at this point they were either already condemned to death or they would be departing on Mammon's leave.

"Please, sit." she said and Etreven was only too happy to comply.  He sat upright, but maintained a posture midway between guarded and communicative.  He wasn't going to give anything away unnecessarily.  Ymir stood behind Etreven, silent and tense, following the plan they'd devised together as best he was able.  He knew it must be a great trial, but then again all risks like this were.  The archdemon continued, "Now, do explain this 'potential alliance' for I am VERY curious what cause has brought you here today. And why you would risk your very freedom, my child."

This is where most people's nerves would have set in.  That of course applied to individuals who had nerves.  No, for now Etreven's only concern was to conduct and conclude their meeting without suffering from a debilitating migraine.  He looked at Ymir, who nodded slowly in response to his gesture, before turning his gaze back on Mammon.  "We came at Ymir's objection, in fear and respect for your power.  He will not speak for he could not contain his pride.  As for myself, I am indifferent to your history but respectful of your power and need you to know what Ymir and I have set in motion."

Etreven took a moment to pause, readying himself as best any mortal could.  His defenses were prepared for the worst, but his confidence lacked the emotional charge needed to falter, so he began to explain.

"We intend to bring Asmodeus to her end."

She had to give Ymir some props for finding a human that could handle his personality. And… she had to congratulate the mortal on how he did not crack a single bit beneath the weight that she knew was her presence. Especially at this… tumultuous moment in time. She knew it was because he was as dull as Legion was, but that dullness hid something. It always did. Personality was sacrificed for a reason. Heh, reasons were of all the importance in this meeting, weren't they? Regardless of why he had done it, or what had caused it, the simple fact remained that it was becoming clear to her what it was that gift was for his lack of interesting qualities. That was all surface appearance. Beneath it… It was the way that he spoke to her.

And then, "We came at Ymir's objection, in fear and respect for your power. That was a far more telling fact. He had managed to convince Ymir to come here, the last place in Hell or Heaven that he would EVER want to be.  "He will not speak for he could not contain his pride. Questionable. But still probably. Her expression did not change as she stared at the two of them, "As for myself, I am indifferent to your history but respectful of your power and need you to know what Ymir and I have set in motion." Interesting. He was a manipulator, wasn't he. She had found her reason. Her wings flapped slightly as her head tilted to the side lightly. This one…. he was well paired for her son. She could feel her pride as she imagined what problems they must cause for those on Earth. They would not be ready to handle him, nor her son. In any other situation, she may have even cracked a smile at that thought. But not right now.

Mammon's head leaned the other way as she observed his pause, his gathering of resolve for whatever it was that he was about to tell her. None of this conversation was particularly light, but whatever it was that he was about to say was the lynchpin in it all. And she was not disappointed.

"We intend to bring Asmodeus to her end."

The crimson spiked into the center of her gaze as she stared at Etreven for a couple of seconds before looking to her son, then back to the mortal. End… Asmodeus…? Asmodeus… the positive thorn that had embedded itself in her side ever since they fell to this pit? That tacky bitch that dared to flaunt about her pestilent self in her bloated filth? There was a faint rumbling in the palace as a wide, EXTREMELY creepy grin filled her entire features. The cause of the rumbling revealed itself to be a soft, deep chuckle that was growing into an echoing cacophony of a feminine voice split into multiple voices. Masculine, feminine, and…. demonic. They intended to end that trailer park trash sister of hers. The very idea was completely laughable, and yet… oh how she relished it. Her hands lowered into her lap to reveal that brilliant grin, licking her lips slowly as she could practically taste that counts blood spilling down the wall. Poisonous shit that it would be.

"Try try again… Isn't that so Ymir?" She addressed her son regardless of whether or not he would answer her. The crimson seemed to have crystalized amidst the gold as she leaned forward to stare at Etreven, "You." She had heard it in his voice. She knew that accent. She knew the smell that rolled off of him, but it was now that she chose to address him in his more native tongue. "You have more reasons to why you are doing this." She straightened up as her pup sat up and nuzzled at her hand, her fingers running through that fiery mane, ignoring how it immediately melted away her flesh to the bone. She had not felt this excited since the last time her Lord had visited her. "Do tell me how you plan to accomplish this. For as I'm sure you are both aware, I would love nothing more than the extermination of that wretch from existence."

A world without Asmodeus…. without having to ever deal with that whore's words. Her actions. Her…. taint… Another chuckle rolled out of her as a being of shadow suddenly shot up out of the ground and placed a tray of perfect, beautiful gold, black, and white china on the low coffee table between them. She poured herself a cup of tea, plucking one of the red tainted sugar cubes and placing it in before stirring. She slowly sat back and sipped, a single eyebrow raised as her gaze weighed upon Etreven, completely intrigued by what it was that he was going to say. For he was well aware of how much she wanted that, so what ELSE was he planning? And…. did Ymir know? For as upset she was at him for his prideful actions before, he was still her son. And this… this would certainly earn him a pardon from her.

As he spoke, Etreven watched Mammon's expressions carefully.  Her eyes had shown themselves to be mirrors on her emotion, crimson and gold.  The echo of angelic past and demonic present.  Perhaps buried inside her there was a war not unlike the one Etreven fought inside himself.  He might have even felt a connection to the archdemon, if he was inclined to feel anything at all.  But no, this was but the most pressing of a long series of moves pushing towards his end goal.  And as he watched Mammon's reaction he knew the most dangerous moment had passed.  It was certainly not the case that either himself or his demonic cohort were safe, in fact he was absolutely certain that there wasn't ever a moment when they truly would be around this one, but the reaction he was witnessing was both heartening and seemingly genuine.

Even Mammon's mirth would have been terrifying to any other mortal, but Etreven merely recorded the transaction as further information.  The sanguine palace shook with a multitude of voices, that demonic mirth a cacophony that could have given Legion's masses a run for their money.  It was a good effect and a useful demonstration of power.  What Etreven had not yet pegged was how much of Mammon's responses were emotional and how many were calculated demonstrations of power.  Both made her deadly, but both required very different approaches to reach past the guard.  Soon it would be time for a riposte he thought somewhere in the back of his head.

"Try try again…  Isn't that so Ymir?" she shot at her son.  Interesting that pride positioned the demon such that he would not break a promise, and more interesting that Etreven had been able to extract one out of him in the first place.  No, the reasoning had merit.  And between the two of them, Etreven was quite honestly the better equipped to handle the emotional maelstrom that would be the result of this intrusion.  Ymir's pride would, hilariously enough, get in the way.  He could tell that Ymir had inherited much of his emotional makeup from his mother.  A useful note to tuck away for later…

"вы."  She had heard the accent in his voice.  Good to know, she paid attention to details.  There were always ways to work that to one's advantage.  And here was a language he was more than obliged to reciprocate.  "You have more reasons to why you are doing this."

Time to tread more carefully.  Truths were a valuable commodity in this particular exchange and some of Etreven's needed to be carefully guarded.  Yet to appear guarded would mean death, which meant it was time for obfuscation in the form of apparent transparency.  "We haven't shared any of our reasons yet, if you'll note.  And this is to the point.  If our goal wasn't shared, we would already be dead in your presence.  We knew this before we decided to present ourselves to you.  But in the name of the trust I hope we can build, let me share.  Ymir's motives you know well, so I'll refrain from treading new ground.  As for myself, I have spent half a life time building an empire of knowledge.  Many spies have many eyes as it goes.  But that empire existed only on earth.  Inferis on the other hand…let us suffice to say that my own possession as taught me much about the power of demons.  I am not content to sit idly by as my empire is toyed with from seats of power beyond my influence.  Through alliance or subversion it is my intention to retain my power on earth and below."

It was a sufficient explanation, and ultimately utterly truthful.  It was the story Ymir knew, though his demon was aware that no word escaped his lips without a hint of subversion.  Mammon would likely conclude the same, but this was a story without cracks, and his true motives were written only in a story told by the thousands of small moves he had made on the chess board of his career.  The archdemon would most certainly not be satisfied to leave it at that and Etreven was unsurprised as she continued, "Do tell me how you plan to accomplish this. For as I'm sure you are both aware, I would love nothing more than the extermination of that wretch from existence."

Etreven contemplated the usefulness of an expression in response.  A jarring smile, a quick snicker for effect?  No, expression would not suffice.  One could not omit pieces of an expression.  It was necessary for emotional control or connection, but what they needed was consent and support.  Instead he sat back as the demon brought forth a serving tray.  Oh yes, Mammon's mood had shifted with the wind back towards pleasantries.  Could they accomplish this goal?  He was quite certain of it.  But it was time to give respects to the niceties of this demonic audience before exposition would begin.  Ymir stirred but did not step forward.  Instead Etreven simply prepared him a cup of tea, adding one of his mother's well loved blood sugar cubes before passing it to the demon.  Watching the hulking mass that was Ymir (diminished in stature though he may be) partake in a calm, silent tea time was practically comical.  He was sure the humor was not lost on the demon as he poured himself a cup as well, plain.

His eyes followed Mammons as he drew the tea to his lips.  A few moments later, between sips, he began.  "We have spent the past month laying the groundwork for an organization I intend to wield as a weapon against Asmodeus.  Among the multitudes of demons, lost souls, cultists and ritualists who make your realm their home, there are those of what I might call a more moral persuasion.  Fallen or corrupted though they may be, they believe in some sort of higher purpose.  They strive for purity or forgiveness or equality, some value that provides meaning to their torment.  We intend to use them.  This organization is gathering such creatures in order to achieve two purposes: their unique nature makes them useful as an interface with others, powerful individuals and groups that might be aligned to the goal of annihilating an archdemon but less inclined to follow the true path Ymir and I tread.  With their help, an assault can be made on the seat of her power and her form and essence destroyed.  Better yet, the architect of a structure is the one most familiar with the weaknesses that could be used for its demolition, and once our goals have been met it will be a matter of some trivia to set these erstwhile allies at each other's throats.  The weapons will destroy themselves given the right motivation."

Etreven sat back, sipping his tea calmly as he maintained eye contact with the demon.  "Hopefully that gives you an idea of the scope we have in mind.  They had either gained her trust and respect, or tea time would be very short lived indeed.

"We haven't shared any of our reasons yet, if you'll note.[/i] That was obvious, and she knew he had to be aware of the multi-leveled meaning behind her words. Oh aye, the two of them undoubtedly had plans. But him, Etreven, had more than just what her son had planned. Her son's desires she knew, but this mortal…  "And this is to the point.  If our goal wasn't shared, we would already be dead in your presence.  We knew this before we decided to present ourselves to you.  But in the name of the trust I hope we can build, let me share.  Ymir's motives you know well, so I'll refrain from treading new ground.  As for myself, I have spent half a life time building an empire of knowledge." Dangerous. Heh, how did the mortals deal with him?  "Many spies have many eyes as it goes.  But that empire existed only on earth.  Inferis on the other hand…let us suffice to say that my own possession as taught me much about the power of demons.  I am not content to sit idly by as my empire is toyed with from seats of power beyond my influence.  Through alliance or subversion it is my intention to retain my power on earth and below."

The fire of her hound seared more against her hand, pulling her hand away as she spoke to him again, the flesh muscles and sinews knitting themselves back together. Finally that olive toned skin formed as she sipped at her tea, that metallic taste of blood swirling in her mouth as it blended with her perfect tea. Hmmm…. Nothing changed about the Archdemon as she sat there, but she was pondering over his words. "I am not content to sit idly by as my empire is toyed with from seats of power beyond my influence." That line alone was worth some concern on her part because it whispered to her the possibilities of what this man would or could do. He would not just stop at Asmodeus. There was no way he would allow these "seats of power" that could easily overrule him continue to exist. So how far was he willing to let this rabbit hole go, hm? His existence should be brought to Lucifer's attention. Although… how would he feel about his children in-fighting like this? It wasn't news that she and Asmodeus hated each other with all the fiery passion of Inferis, so the fact that she would take interest in this ploy wouldn't be a shock at all to him. He was omni-potent after all. The REAL question, was if he would care? And if he didn't care, how he would react to this mortal that sat so still in front of her.

Mammon allowed her mouth to twist into a slight smirk as she saw her son drinking her tea, but she did nothing more as her pup yawned and curled up around her ankles.  "We have spent the past month laying the groundwork for an organization I intend to wield as a weapon against Asmodeus.  Among the multitudes of demons, lost souls, cultists and ritualists who make your realm their home, there are those of what I might call a more moral persuasion." Her eyebrow raised ever so slightly, "Fallen or corrupted though they may be, they believe in some sort of higher purpose.  They strive for purity or forgiveness or equality, some value that provides meaning to their torment.  We intend to use them.  This organization is gathering such creatures in order to achieve two purposes: their unique nature makes them useful as an interface with others, powerful individuals and groups that might be aligned to the goal of annihilating an archdemon but less inclined to follow the true path Ymir and I tread." They were also easy to control. Another point that wasn't news in Inferis was that there were plenty of demons that weren't happy with the fact that the Archdemons existed and ruled over the domains. Many sought other… options for the leadership positions. So far none had succeeded. Aye, this one was a manipulator to the core. "With their help, an assault can be made on the seat of her power and her form and essence destroyed.  Better yet, the architect of a structure is the one most familiar with the weaknesses that could be used for its demolition, and once our goals have been met it will be a matter of some trivia to set these erstwhile allies at each other's throats.  The weapons will destroy themselves given the right motivation."

Now it was coming down to a very small set of questions within her own mind at this moment in time. And she continued to stare at him with that look of interest upon her beautiful features, the crimson fading away entirely to gold as she leaned back slightly in her chair. She couldn't fully let her back touch the chair because wings. They fluttered slightly as she lowered her cup to its saucer in her lap, "Hopefully that gives you an idea of the scope we have in mind." The last bit of tea rolled down her throat as she silently poured herself another cup, white hair swirling about her head. "I see why you chose this one to be your vessel my son." She spoke quietly, raising her head to let her gaze rest upon Etreven once more. He had not been careful enough. "What a board of chess you have set up for yourself Etreven." She commented with a chuckle, turning her head slightly as she heard the scream of a Weeper outside. "You sound just like Ymir when he decided to try and overthrow me." It was a soft murmur, sighing lightly at the memory before a rather twisted smirk warped part of her features. "There are enough pawns in the world to do what you wish to do. The question is whether or not you will have enough knights that will follow you to the end."

The answer was he wouldn't. He wouldn't allow there to be. As he stated, the weapons will destroy themselves, which meant he already had a plan of getting rid of the very creatures he planned on using. She would be no exception. Her eyes stabbed into him, "Destroy her. Then come speak to me again. You sound as if you don't need my help." And with that her gaze slid back over to her son, her hound huffing before scratching behind its ear. "Unless there is something in particular you are wanting from me?"

"I see why you chose this one to be your vessel my son."  One could never master all languages, certainly not as a mortal, and this was one Etreven could recognize but not understand.  As unpredictable and emotional as this one was, she was still calculating to an extreme degree.  It was worthy of respect, even fear.  Yet Etreven lacked the capacity for either except in the most removed and intellectual sense and so placed the untranslated statement into his internal database of details for the future.  A dangerous foe or a powerful friend.  These were things one simply needed to know in his position and whether or not she could be relied upon was one.  The answer was almost certainly no.  But could she be useful?  That question still remained.

"What a board of chess you have set up for yourself Etreven.  You sound just like Ymir when he decided to try and overthrow me."  Was Mammon aware that Ymir didn't speak Russian?  He rather hoped so, because it seemed likely that his demon would have preferred not to hear his mother speak so casually of the coup that ended in his imprisonment.  Nonetheless the barbs were well directed.  He would have felt camaraderie if it was in him to be so.  "Indeed, I believe it's fairly clear why Ymir and I would work together so well.  But do not think he has not learned from his failure.  In truth he desires your respect, though I would not say so aloud if I thought he understood me."  The twisted smirk that graced her face was eerie but fitting, as were the words that followed.  "There are enough pawns in the world to do what you wish to do. The question is whether or not you will have enough knights that will follow you to the end."

So the truth was she understood his plot better than he might have expected.  That was dangerous…it would be better if she underestimated their capacities.  His capacities.  But there was still a play left.  "Destroy her. Then come speak to me again. You sound as if you don't need my help.  Unless there is something in particular you are wanting from me?"  The shift in language was tactical, but it evoked the desired response.  Ymir turned towards his mother and smiled, his mouth all teeth and smoke and poison.  The demon had one line and it was his turn to utter it.  "Yes dear mother, we would be extremely grateful if you would lend us a pair of your pups.  We may not have knights, but we could certainly use hounds."

She didn't trust this mortal as far as she could throw him. And it was unquestionable that she could throw him very far if she had to.  "Indeed, I believe it's fairly clear why Ymir and I would work together so well." Yes, that was the very problem.  "But do not think he has not learned from his failure.  In truth he desires your respect, though I would not say so aloud if I thought he understood me." Did he now? Somehow…. She found herself questioning it. While it was something that she did desire, she knew better than to think her son would ever care for her like she did him despite the betrayal he had seared into her. Into his father. But again, had Lucifer really cared? He had let her take care of matters because he was her son, and Lucifer already had multitudes of children of his own to worry about. If this was a truth, however, and her son did desire her respect…. Yes… she could see that as certainly being possible. Etreven was right, Ymir would never admit it himself to her. It would be a breaching of his pride. Out of any of the other archdemons though… He would have respected her more for the simple fact that she had thwarted his attempt. Very well. She would accept this as a truth with a grain of salt. Why would he tell her this anyways?

And then…. THEN her son spoke. The intensity had not left as she watched the glint of his teeth in the light, clearly not bothered in the least bit by the smoke that now swirled in the air. What would he say--"Yes dear mother, we would be extremely grateful if you would lend us a pair of your pups.  We may not have knights, but we could certainly use hounds." Why. Why of all things would her son ask that singular question. Mammon cocked a single brow as she stared at the pair, her gaze focused upon her son that had finally decided to speak. He knew better than to ask that of her. This… This was out of character for him. And if there was one thing that she prided herself on, it was how well she knew her son. Having to go toe to toe with him was enough to do that. There was a line from some mortal movie about that…. Something like, "You do not truly know someone, until you fight them." Yes…. that was certainly a truth. Between his two parents, she was closest to him. And to be honest she preferred it that way. It meant that Lucifer was safer from the desire that Ymir held. So for him to ask her this…. She hummed quietly in her throat as she tapped a nail against her tea cup once. "Interesting request."

Why? WHY? WHY of all things would he ask her that? It was eating at her because her son was a tactician. An excellent tactician, just not enough to defeat her. To send her hounds against the mistress of the flying whores was a completely illogical move. "Do tell me how you believe they would prove useful against flying enemies my dear, for I know you know better." She sipped once more at her tea and placed it back down on the low table as her hound now sat up stock still staring at their guests, the glowing red lights of its eyes lacking in a readable emotion or thought. She was aware of what was going through her pups mind, chuckling softly as she smiled at the two of them. No. This screamed wrong to her. She was quiet for a moment as she stared at the two of them a little longer, the hound growling softly. The sound made the floor shake as she merely maintained that smile, her pup continuing to stare at them at complete attention. "Perhaps I can spare one. Do share with me your plans for I would hate to send my pup off to die."

Although it had been by Etreven's guidance that the pair had contrived this particular inquiry, it was Ymir's knowledge of his mother that had been crucial to the approach they had chosen.  The great demon of pride had been absolutely certain that his mother would balk at any request for the use of her pups and as such it would be a particularly potent point of argument in their future dealings when they could turn to the archdemon and say with no qualms, "When we asked for your aid, you turned us away."  It was part of the set of moves they had planned before beginning this particular venture, as dangerous as it was.  Their desired outcome required her both to endorse their actions and turn away their needs.  It positioned them perfectly, as her attentions would be elsewhere as she awaited what they were sure she thought would be their (or at least his) demise.

Indeed, her initial reaction moved the queen into position to be taken.  "Do tell me how you believe they would prove useful against flying enemies my dear, for I know you know better."  Etreven listened mutely to words he could not understand, but Ymir maintained his toothy grin as he turned his gaze on his partner, nodding to his mother in indication.  By their plans, Ymir would speak no more and their goal was just out of reach.  Until the makings of calamity snuck into their plans.  A long, pregnant silence stood between them.  And then, those words.  "Perhaps I can spare one.

The queen was out of striking range.  She had seen their gambit and was playing with them.  And it left Etreven's mental machinations scrambling.  He barely heard the next sentence she spoke as he rapidly put together the best response he could manage.  Ymir remained silent, but somehow Etreven could sense that even in this failure Ymir was amused.  None of that mattered, what mattered was continuing to appear as though the entire plan was well worked out.  Not for a moment did he appear flustered or unprepared, but his mind was absolutely racing.  Too many uncalculated variables, too many unknowns.  But it was time for words, and so he responded as best he was able.

Three blinks, a beat and he was speaking.  "Put simply, your son and I both know our strengths.  And as great a faith as we put in our abilities, to end an archdemon is beyond momentus in stature.  It has never been done.  And while we believe a swift strike, an attack with little warning delivered from many angles has the capacity to succeed?  We cannot ensure the stealth of our attack without…help.  This is where your pups come in.  We don't need them to fight foes in the air, we don't need them to strike against Asmodeus, we need them to scout for us.  To help ensure that when we strike, we strike silently and rapidly.  Does that sate your curiosity?"

For a brief moment, even Etreven wasn't sure.

How would they respond hm??? To make such a request that would have obviously been turned down if they knew her was clearly a trap. Something that they wanted. And if there was anything that Mammon wasn't quite about to fully do, it was what they wanted. At the very least, she would certainly throw a rather big wrench into their plans because.. well.. she wanted to. And generally, Mammon always did what she wanted to do. It was part of her Greed.  "Put simply, your son and I both know our strengths.  And as great a faith as we put in our abilities, to end an archdemon is beyond momentus in stature.  It has never been done.  And while we believe a swift strike, an attack with little warning delivered from many angles has the capacity to succeed?  We cannot ensure the stealth of our attack without…help.  This is where your pups come in.  We don't need them to fight foes in the air, we don't need them to strike against Asmodeus, we need them to scout for us.  To help ensure that when we strike, we strike silently and rapidly.  Does that sate your curiosity?"

She remained quiet as her pup licked its lips, a burst of hot air filling the room when it did so. "So you need distractions. And if there is anything to catch my sister's attention, it would be some smidgeon of my presence." She commented quietly, picking up her cup again to sip at it, her pup just glaring at them. Her pups were too obvious to be scouts, their existence distinctive enough to trigger any of her siblings (particularly Moloch). She paused as she lowered her cup slightly, golden eyes resting on her son as her brows furrowed slightly. She had already confirmed to herself that her son wouldn't stop at Asmo, so… He wouldn't dare, would he? "Again, you know better Ymir." Sighing lightly, the questioning gaze faded away as her wings gave a single flap and the tea cup was placed back upon the tray for the moment. "Yes Etreven, it does. I will give you one hound for you plight against Asmodeus. One should be sufficient for you and your… goals." She answered, scratching near one of the horns on her head as her eyes flicked towards her son again. What was he playing at.

"When can I expect this attack to take place? I will give him to you on the evening before the fight." The pup beside her growled a little, one of her gentle hands reaching out to stroke its flames with not a care in the world as the flesh was burned away once more. She did not like the quiet thoughts that were nibbling at her now.

He'd expected Mammon to be oppositional.  He'd expected distrust and he'd expected manipulation.  She'd exemplified it at every turn.  What he hadn't particularly expected was cooperation, which in hindsight made a great deal of sense.  If she'd figured them to know better than ask, she might very well have concluded there were ulterior motives (or at least an expectation of defiance) which could have led to this exact scenario.  "So you need distractions. And if there is anything to catch my sister's attention, it would be some smidgeon of my presence."

That hadn't been his intention, although the last of his deposition had been improvisational conversation.  At best skimming the top of a pool of plans and ideas when no other moves were available.  Still, if she wanted to interpret it that way it could work out in his favor.  He nodded in reply, expression blank and eyes focused.  He was trying to be amiable, but he needed more patience than his focus allowed while making such off-the-cuff decisions and he was certain it showed on his face.  No bother, they could still proceed.

Again, the arch demon chose to address Ymir who's silence was a testament to the demon's patience and devotion to a plan he had committed to.  Too much pride to admit that his chosen path could possibly be wrong.  It was a blind spot for them both, until they were neck deep in turnabout action.  This time wasn't beyond salvation though.  There was still a way to walk away from this and retain the upper hand, they just needed to be careful.  "Και πάλι, ξέρετε καλύτερα Ymir."  The words and emotions directed at Ymir faded into the background as her attentions drew on Etreven once more.  This would be the final test, he was quite certain their time with Mammon was drawing swiftly to a close.

"Yes Etreven, it does. I will give you one hound for you plight against Asmodeus. One should be sufficient for you and your… goals."  An absolutely unexpected outcome.  But it made for an interesting ploy, provided they could get any of this plot to work.  More to the point, it involved certain lies being crafted and others undone.  But considering the risk they'd made in coming here at all…it was too late to turn back now.  "Yes, that will most certainly suffice.  Will they follow either of us on command, or just one of us?  I am familiar with their power, not their sense of obedience."  Just further foundations for the legitimacy of their request.  There was still the matter of…

"When can I expect this attack to take place? I will give him to you on the evening before the fight."  Etreven would have winced, if he'd been sensitive to worry.  Instead he kept his eyes right on her, thoughts clicking rapidly into place as he started to respond before managing to figure out all of the connections.  She kept catching him off guard, and as much of a challenge as it was?  The experience was teaching him a great deal about arch demons and what to expect from them.  The answer was, ultimately, quite a lot.

"We will be spending the next two to three weeks gathering our forces and preparing.  Our allies must be called to battle, and when we do call them we will also call on you.  I thank you for your patience hearing us out.  It has been my absolute pleasure Mammon.  For now I hope you will not find us at great fault for taking our leave?"  Etreven bowed deeply, eyes never moving from the beautiful, terrible demon and the creature beside her.  That gesture complete he turned to make his exit from the room, slowly and confidently.  Though he expected Ymir to follow, the demon only moved away from the wall and looked towards his mother.  He listened to the footfall of the ritualist he called Etreven as nothing but silence fell between him and Mammon.

A silence that he broke with but a short phrase, his spined visage more sober than usual.  "You and I should talk, mother.

It was plastered all over his features how NOT according to plan this was for him, and if nothing else, that in itself was worth it. So he hadn't been able to plan for everything hm? What a fool this mortal was. He clearly underestimated who he was dealing with, although…. As a point of personal pride, she knew she was probably one of the more tricky archdemons to deal with. Leviathan was just moody, Asmo would probably try to sleep with you, Belial may not even listen… She could go on and on. It wasn't like she lacked siblings. Lucifer would undoubtedly be on the same level as her if not more goofy for it was his style to throw off everyone for the sake of doing it. Her eyes shifted towards the windows briefly, she missed her lord.

 "Yes, that will most certainly suffice.  Will they follow either of us on command, or just one of us?  I am familiar with their power, not their sense of obedience." Mammon merely narrowed her eyes slightly, flicking her gaze for the briefest of seconds to her son and back to his host. "They will follow whomever I command them to follow. You will know who it is when the time comes." Her voice remained jovial and conversational despite the expression, awaiting to hear the answer to her question. She still had to ponder who would be best for each one had their pros and cons to it. That… And she inwardly bared her teeth at the quiet thoughts rumbling about her head.

It was not an advisable way to begin this dealing, but also extremely telling of the mortal before her. And of what her son may be planning. "We will be spending the next two to three weeks gathering our forces and preparing.  Our allies must be called to battle, and when we do call them we will also call on you.  I thank you for your patience hearing us out.  It has been my absolute pleasure Mammon.  For now I hope you will not find us at great fault for taking our leave?" Mammon shook her head as she gestured for them to do as they had to do. So she had some time to plan and move some of her own pieces into place. There was a conversation that now needed to happen with someone else very dear to her heart, and it wasn't Lucifer. She offered them a warm smile, slowly rising herself as she watched him bow to her.

But as soon as Etreven turned his back and she saw her son not move, she raised an eyebrow in the slightest. So now her skirts flowed as her whole body turned to face him, walking around the table and the couch where they had been sitting till she stood in front of her son. Her wings opened slightly as her hair floated in its own mysterious patterns, golden eyes looking over his visage with a faint smile. It was true he had betrayed her, but he could not help himself. And it had been so terribly long since she had seen him, and…. she missed her child. Her hand came up in that silence to trace the air just above his features with her hand, sliding down towards his jaw just as he spoke, "You and I should talk, mother." Her hand froze and moved away as she stared with a sudden intensity at him, the smile gone as her whole demeanor gained the shifting uneasiness that was gnawing at her mind. "Yes we should."

And with that her pup came up beside her and growled softly, tapping its forehead to quiet it as she didn't look away from him at all. Her brows knit together as her lips grew tight, twisting those pretty features of hers, "Why don't you tell me whats really going on. You are smarter than this plan. Too many mistakes, or did your time in your prison cause you to slip?" She knew her son. She knew how brilliant he was and how proud he had made her to be so clever despite what he had done with his cleverness. So she chastised him because she KNEW he was better than this. "It isn't just Asmo. Who?"

Ymir stood very still for a time, as still as his true form stood in its prison.  Yet these eyes here, looking out across his mother's den, looking onto his mother's living face and form, they were in many senses his true eyes.  Did it matter where his body remained if he could breathe power into the world through other cracks and crevices?  It took a moment of contemplation, but the answer was an obvious yes.  His true power aside, it was a matter of hurt pride that he was able to be contained in any way.  Hurt that had quickly turned to fury.  A fury that burned itself out over ages into bitterness and denial.  And when finally that had faded he was confronted with truth.

Had his pride diminished in the millennia he'd spent imprisoned?  Absolutely not.  It mattered that he be free, that he be whole, that he demonstrate that he could not be contained, not indefinitely.  But he had learned something to temper that pride.  The knowledge that his best efforts had been thwarted had led him to believe that innate ability wasn't enough.  Not for him, not for his mother, not even for Lucifer.  Power, it seems, came in many ways more from the motivations of others.  And so he'd taken for his own a man who'd mastered that power and shaped him into a figurehead.  A tool.  The one who now called himself Etreven was little more than an echo of his true self, pruned like a mental bonsai tree into a shape best suited for chauffeuring his essence and acting as point for a larger set of plans.

"Why don't you tell me whats really going on. You are smarter than this plan. Too many mistakes, or did your time in your prison cause you to slip?"  It was a barb.  Very much like his mother.  Hiding larger truths behind the shallow and the petty.  He liked that about her, she knew how to keep her foes in fear while ever managing to remain underestimated in their eyes.  She held potency and extraordinary power hidden in plain sight by pretending to be something smaller than she was.  No, not pretending.  Channeling those pieces, giving them air.  The best lies always contained an element of truth.  And yes, she knew him.  She knew his abilities.  Well enough to have predicted his strategies, to smash his armies, to destroy his designs.  True, she had needed Lucifer's help in the end for the final blow, but even now he wasn't sure if it was from necessity or in a twisted sense of poetic justice.

It made him respect her all the more.  How fitting a tribute to her power he was.  How mighty he could become.  And the death of Asmodeus?  That would be a very fitting tribute indeed.  Logical.  Etreven believed it was what he wanted.  Even as Ymir knew perfectly well where things would evolve.  Soon enough the idea of the truth would be planted and he'd have to balk.  It all went exactly as planned.  Even this conversation…the chaos had seeped in.  The lack of predictability was another breaking point for the man he possessed.  Etreven wouldn't even be noticing that he was leaving the place alone.  In the man's head, the vision of Ymir continued to linger, an after image placed there for specific purpose.  Now was the time to address his mother, to let the cat out of the bag before it came back to bite him later.

He spent some time watching his mother, unmoving, jagged and unreadable.  And then he started to laugh.  After all, it was funny, wasn't it?  All of the lies, the movement, the intrigue?  It wouldn't do to show that humor when one meant to show sobriety, serious thought, careful calculation.  But that didn't keep it from being funny.  "It isn't anyone at all mother.  At least, it isn't anyone who matters.  Yet.  But it's certainly going to look like we're trying to kill Moloch, if you want to know.  Still, despite appearances, all my friend and I are planning on doing is releasing my body from its prison below the arch demon's lair."  He had leaned back against the walls, the casual pose a complex contrast to his jagged and serious form.  He expected she'd respond poorly to that knowledge, but it was important that she hear him through.

"Don't get me wrong though mother.  That's just what I want him to know.  What I want him to try to convince me of.  He will feel more strongly about his own opinions being shifted onto others than being handed a plan and a part of it.  So yes, I will kill Asmodeus.  If I have my way, with my bare two hands, flesh upon flesh.  But this I cannot do without my body.  And my pride will not allow me to ask for release.  It must be earned.  Taken, really."  And with that Ymir locked eyes on the demon.  This would be a very, very interesting moment for them both…