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tampered2007-09-29 12:14 am
proudbutterfly.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-09-29 12:14 am
Log; Complete
When; September 22. Backdated, after this.
Rating; PG?
Characters; Vergil (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
devilingenuity) and Mad Hatter (proudbutterfly).
Summary; A half demon who craves to rule his Hell meets a demon who secretly pulls the strings of power in hirs to celebrate his un-birthday.
Log;
It was very surreal to the half-blooded demon as he found himself standing in the middle of very literally a circus. Mad Hatter hadn't been joking in the slightest, had he...she? The concept of a demon being based off of Alice in Wonderland wasn't something that Vergil was entirely shocked over. It had been amidst one of his favorite stories, and all subsequent editions after that, growing up. Although the reason varied. As a child, it was what his father would read to him and taught him to read back, and as he grew older, the underlying metaphor for the descent to Hell was something he couldn't ignore.
Hands in the dark blue duster he wore over clothes of the business-casual sort, Yamato, his katana, was carefully concealed. It wasn't there by means of asserting authority, although he would make quick use of it if the need passed. Around him, the feelings were indescribable. It almost felt like a pending adrenaline rush, and made him feel more awake and alive than he had been since he'd arrived.
The table he stood before was surely Mad Hatter's tea party table, set up for the unbirthday celebration she (he?) mentioned over the network. Vergil approached the table to look over the contents there, while attempting to feel out any particularly unique presences in hopes to pinpoint Mad Hatter before Mad Hatter's arrival to him.
Lights of yellow, purple and magenta bathed the room, noises of laughter, screams and a lone, melodious violin played at the background. There was no one, no one around. That room was a pocked place made for not disturbances as the Mad Hatter had hir tea party with the princeling. That was hir moniker for the arrogant Vergil. Sie did not mind his sense of pride one bit, oh no, no, how could the very Satan cardinal of the foulest sin disapproved of the charge.
It’s so delicious… sweet to one’s tongue.
The Jester waited until the guest took a good view of the table, teaset and the delicious treats above it before making hir entrance. A swarm of butterflies came flying from all directions, they were a class of swallowtail, poisonous to touch. In a heartbeat they joined together and vanished, spreading a bright, sparkling dust smelling to perfume. The demon emerged from the ground between Vergil and the table, casually wearing a stripped and stylish, black and white overcoat, black pants and a white top hat. Short, slick hair of the color of the butterfly wings, orange red, and eyes blue; the demon’s feminine features was concealed with a mask of perfect white, jester make-up. Chest flat, narrow hips like a man’s, but toned arms and legs as a woman: Mad Hatter was androgyny in flesh.
That’s how sie like to keep it; His designs for hir gender would be damned.
“Greetings and salutations! Welcome to the tea party, Vergil! One’s the Mad Hatter, Court jester and Ringmaster of Circus Carnivore,” greeted Belial tipping hir hat and taking a bow. “Sit quickly, before time ticks away and we run of chances to celebrate your unbirthday!”
Vergil's face remained calm as he watched the demon appear. The power behind the androgynous demon before him was fascinatingly strong, and burned his nose and eyes from its potency. Had Mad Hatter been a mortal, the fact that the demon was neither he nor she would have bothered him to a point of scoffing and insults, but that was a testament to Vergil's feelings of his own superiority over humans. Despite sharing their blood half-way, he cared not at all for the majority of them. A few had left colorful markings in his life, on his journey to gaining more power, but most passed by his mind without a second thought. Perhaps if they utilized the power they truly held instead of believing it not existing...
Demons, on the other hand.
Vergil started for the nearest end from where he sat, hands never leaving their pockets as he strode to do as Mad Hatter wished. "You waste time not, do you, Mad Hatter?"
Belial watched Vergil, knowing this man needed a colorful entrance to feel flattered. Strong words he had exchanged when spoken to hir humble self and wanted to give it praise for a glimpse of playful power. As the emissary of Sheol, Mad Hatter had a duty to uphold into give a strong first impression, good or bad were meaningless when exerting power in the lowest layer of Hell.
Hir lips curled into a smile; head still low by the bow, frame hidden by the falling strands of hair.
“Wasting time is a nasty, little custom Duke Astaroth is fond of; none of that is good for this jester. Time can’t be wasted, that’s a luxury few have in the bowels of Hell.” Sie took hir place on the opposite extreme of the table after him, of course, pouring tea and have it appear just in front of Vergil. “Drink and eat, noble guest! ‘Tis your unbirthday here. One doesn’t have neither, birthday or unbirthday to celebrate.”
The tea appearing before Vergil stirred a vague reaction, much to Vergil's distaste for himself. Emotions were a sign of weakness, in his opinion, and reactions were emotions. It was a circle in his mind, but he quickly coated it in his solid face from before. The tea cup was lifted to be sniffed at, and Vergil was certain that a member of Hell's higher positions would more than understand his caution. Despite Mad Hatter's humility over him...herself, Vergil could feel there was more there than what was admitted.
"And yet you find the time to pass sitting and speaking in rhythm over tea?" An eyebrow quirked in Mad Hatter's position; a show of humor, more than anything. "Is your Hell so colorful as this?"
Every motion Vergil did, sie took note. It was measured with a casual, subtle observation, schooled by eons of living that made mindgames Belial’s preferred lifestyle. The princeling had potential in making but he was clearly still so green and in need of a hand to make him bloom. Ah, but a jester wasn’t suitable for a mentor, regardless of hir thoughts in this. Vergil would have to catch up by himself with time.
“Sugar?” Mad Hatter offered mirthfully, delaying to answer his question while she added two cubes into hir tea. “One was hoping to hear about your Hell, first. There have been some details spoken about one’s home already. Pretty much, this Hatter spends leisure days organizing tea parties and entertaining the Court. What else would a humble jester do in absence of His Majesty to rule?”
"My Hell?" How to explain it to someone not only from Hell, but from a parallel Hell no less? The offer for sugar was passed over. While Vergil had a rather keen sweet tooth, he also had the ability to control it. He was concerned about neither food nor drink at that point. He allowed a pause to sip the tea, before placing the cup back onto its saucer.
"My Hell has been sealed for two millennia. If you're on one side, it's next to impossible to venture to the other. The seal of my father's doing holds strong, but with all seals, it is far from perfect." His hands laced together by the fingers, and he rested his elbows on the table. Ice-blue eyes circle with shadows caused by Vergil's knack of neglecting certain necessities that cursed him on his human side watched the creature before him. The genderless creature was abstract but elegant. Amazing that any Hell could hold such. "Tales say it ugly and dark, wet and repulsive with its leader as beautiful as an angel, however."
Belial was listening, reclining on cushioned back of the seat, drinking with serenity the cup of tea, pausing to sample on cherries or snacks. Butterflies appeared again made of light, glowing orange and red and posing at the edges of the table as candles. Hir blue eyes bored into his. Ahh, sie did like the color of them: cold and blue like a frozen river just like Lord Lucifer’s. But they held nothing of his Majesty’s contempt that made the once proud Virtue of Heaven fell hopelessly in love with him.
Beautiful as an angel…
Lord Lucifer?
“An angel?” Belial ventured, sitting up straight, eyelashes fluttering and setting the cup on the saucer. “Does this angel have a name?”
That caught the creature's attention, and Vergil supposed it was understandable. Vergil was just as intrigued about learning about Mad Hatter's as Mad Hatter seemed to be with his. "It depends on the religion. His name to Sparda was Mundus. But he also goes under the name of Lucifer, Satan, and a menagerie of others.
"It's not unheard of, as I'm sure you know. After all, Elijah managed to force seventeen names from the lips of the demonic duchess, Lilith." His eyebrow quirked again in humor, this time the corner of his lip twitching along with. "Which makes me wonder the score of names in possession to my current company."
Mundus?
Belial frowned. What kind of name was Mundus? It sounded like a human dish or sickness instead of the proper name for a lord of Hell. Unlike Vergil, Mad Hatter was expressive with hir emotions. The greatest mastership was to control them without fearing repercussions in hir understanding, not to pointlessly repressing them. Why would sie dread reactions?
“Oh, so now you are interested in one’s appellations, Vergil? Why for? They aren’t of one’s personal taste unlike Mad Hatter, see,” Belial grinned mischievously. “Only one fallen angel ruling the depths of Hell? How are the other demons? Grotesque and animalistic or with these forms?” Sie pointed to him and then to hirself.
Mad Hatter's expression to the name was amusing, though not unexpected. It was a grotesque name, though oddly translated to a meaning of elegance in Latin. Vergil sat back and mused over Mad Hatter's retort to Vergil's inquiry. "Fair enough. Your current designation will suit me well."
And further inquiry on Mad Hatter's side about Vergil's Hell. "God cursed the Fallen Ones with forms of horror and disgust. However, this is truly in the eyes of the beholder. The high demons with which I have been faced in my life have a certain, unmistakeable beauty to them. Majestic in their cursed forms. However, not even their Hellish beauty could make them strong enough, in the end.
"The most powerful have the ability to emulate the bodies of humans, not only possess them. My father's human form was not unlike my own."
Weak meaning, ugly sounding name, Mad Hatter was one for vainglory in the end, as pride in flesh. Sie let him explain about the cursed forms and hellish figures of grotesque nightmares demons of his world donned by God’s will. It’s truth hir own was not much different, but it was in their choices to become such way, forgetting their ties with Heaven. All but a few “sane” of the seven Satans.
“How cruel your God was to force His children abandon their celestial beauty,” Mad Hatter pointed out, lifting the teacup to hir red lips. “So you have fought them within this strong seal that keeps them inside. But, one wonders, if they have a hierarchy, Mundus aside, there is no Court for jesters entertain?”
Sie reclined on the chair once more, stretching one arm for a butterfly move to pose on the tip of hir fingernails.
"Actually, they have found rips in the seal left by my father, and come to me for comeuppance for his betrayal," Vergil explained calmly over the rim of his tea cup before taking another sip. "I'm sure it's no secret to you that demons smell lineage in the blood."
He placed the cup down, pretending to be more concerned with it than the lithe movements of Mad Hatter. Studying movements told much about a person's persona. Mad Hatter was so casual and unconcerned. Fitting for the degree of power that Vergil sensed.
"There is a court that resides under Mundus. A line of Arch Dukes and Duchesses reside beneath him. At one time it was he, then my father, and then the Arch Nobles. The Arch Dukes and Duchesses fronted appearance through the ages as the multitude of pagan gods and goddesses across the globe, you see."
“Tut-Tut. Don’t assume we can smell blood,” Belial murmured, amused, waving hir hand to a side; butterfly still attached to the fingertips. “We see beyond bodies, we see right to the signature of your soul and aura. One knows you aren’t human because your soul simply isn’t.” Sie gave him a sheepish grin and encouraged him to continue.
“What do you say are the most renowned demons after… Mundus and Sparda if there is any worthy of mention in your honest opinion. One’s not very impressed by a Court of Fools who allowed one of theirs seal them so easily. Demons should learn how their natures are before this event surprised them.”
It was frankly baffling and stupid to the Satan’s eyes. Truth, their Hell had been destroyed but Adam Kadmon restored it and the events that unchained their destruction also triggered the collapse of the lower layers of Heaven with the prelude of the third great war. To think one single demon had turned and done something as reckless…
"Then yours works different than mine." It was matter-of-fact, and while Vergil was quite fascinated by the idea, he also wasn't shocked. After all, that was the ability he used to determine one's true demeanor, and their sins. That was how he determined that preacher's innocence in the square, as a matter of fact.
"Worth mentioning? Hm. None, to be honest. I can barely remember the names of those who have dared to try to punish me for my father's steps. If one can barely take on a half-blood, then there is no reason for me to be at all concerned with their designations." It was said with a flippant wave at the end. "From what I understand, the battle lasted for many centuries in the human world, after it was discovered that my father's heart awoke to 'the light'."
Belial was amused at the flippant wave. Such pride, he reeked in this and that made Vergil more appetizing to keep close by while drinking tea. He was the main treat for a demon of hir status, knowingly or unknowingly. It wasn’t as if the Satan would hurt this child.
“It seems to be the case, if one is allowed to point the obvious,” Mad Hatter remarked unhelpfully. “Awaken light, what curious imagery! Did he become an angel again? With shiny, white wings and a holy aura to blind everyone? Most interesting!” Sie clapped at the idea; butterfly fading into glowing dust. “However, once fallen, never risen again, innocence is lost if it ever existed. You are his flesh and blood; your soul doesn’t have Heaven’s touch but the taint of Hell.”
The tea cup was placed down once more, Vergil's eyes closing at Mad Hatter's words. Indeed, that was true. The demon was better than Vergil originally assumed, and he chastized himself for not assuming as much. He would have to get his mind away from what was conventional in his life, if he seeked to be able to integrate into the world of demonic presences in the City.
"My father forsook the majority of his powers, to create the seal between the Human World and the Demon World. From there, his divine gift was to merely take the form of a human and reign in shadows for two millennia, afterwhich he took a human bride and bore nephilim sons. His bride and one son slaughtered, the other whisked away by the cruel hands of humans as just a child." To see if Mad Hatter would catch the allusion there, considering Vergil made mention of his brother in the City, was what Vergil truly sought in saying as much.
“Yet you live as does your brother,” pointed the Mad Hatter, lifting an index finger, pressing the digit to hir smiling lips. “Such miraculous resurrection that must have been. Keep the secret if you cherish; life wouldn’t be interesting if you tell everything, don’t you agree? To keep the party interested and know when to pause is also a lesson of bargaining.”
So sie lied about guidance. But he was so inexperienced. A warrior, sie would see he was worthy by the boasting success in slaying, but in this type of battleground, he was speaking far too much, detailing into things sie hadn’t even dreamed to ask. Prying over his history wasn’t the demon’s concern, no matter how much Vergil’s pride dictated to tell about the fascinating tale of his family. He shouldn’t expect Belial to speak about hir humble self.
“What are your questions, honored guest? Drink more tea and let your thirst be alleviate. You deserve it after speaking this long!” Sie tipped the brim of the top hat and waited.
It was sad, but true, though Vergil knew it not. To humans, Vergil's tongue was hardpressed to move. But to demons, that was another story. Most likely it was the youth in him, seeking to impress the other. He smelt so much power emanating, and even then, how loose his tongue had become escaped him.
Ah, but Mad Hatter's behavior struck the pride of Vergil and made him feel more confident and cocky than he was before. To get respect, not an attempt at death, from something originating from the noble lines of Hell (even if a different Hell, and even if but an entertainer), was something that the young half-blood fed on with his ego. But what to ask? What to ask. "You said that they forswore their angelic forms to sever from God, not that their forms were stripped in punishment?"
At his dignified silence and quick thinking, Belial graced him with a nod of approval. Children, so stupidly eager sometimes. Well, it appeared sie was getting to old; but clowns love to deal with little kids, don’t they? So would the mockery of jester sie had set hirself to be to every eye and eye ear around hirself: that was the charade built to strengthen Mad Hatter in Hell.
“No, they weren’t; most chose to forsake them, however,” Belial explained, “Even those who were supposed to rule, followed this childish pretensions of never have been angels and mutilated their bodies into grotesque shapes. Beelzebub, for instance, decided to take up the shape of a monstrous fly after humans nicknamed him the Lord of the flies. Mammon of a raven. Leviathan, another important one, decided to live in the veins of Hell, seas and rivers made of lava and acid, as a great dragon. They claim that fair shapes are fragile for that hostile environment. To be deny Heaven by our Father, means they have to deny the bodies graced by His doing.”
Well, not every of them. Belial had never forsaken hir fair form. That had been wasteful. Butterflies was a preferred form and they were nothing but seemly fragile and beautiful. Just opposite to their thoughts.
Vergil listened intently to his company's tale. It was ont that Vergil found himself able to appreciate. Shunning away their forms for another to deny what was given to them originally... Demons were bitter in his world over their heavenly forms being stripped from them. However, in Mad Hatter's world...
He took a calm sip of the tea, eyes closed to emphasize how casual he was, and only after he placed it down, did he ask, "What did God do that caused such anger? To cast away forms of beauty for monstrosities that would be feared throughout the ages by mortal man? Or was that not even a consideration, with mortals regarded too lowly to matter, and the decision made as an explicit rejection of His gifts?"
“Rebellion against his designs until the last breath,” Mad Hatter announced, wiping gingerly with a napkin the remnants of a sweet snack. “That is what demons do best. We played our cards and he won, but to deny the beauty he laid down us was our choice as much. Bodies are his temple. We deprave them and twist them into something… so ugly.” Sie pointed to hirself, including this time doing something alike that.
“Hell was nothingness; God cast out us into a little Oblivion. It was Lord Lucifer who created life from nothing, His body fused with the land to give it Being for us to remain. Life was hard and we were denied Heaven in a war we didn’t lose. Michael’s armies were defeated by his Brother and yet, He was forced to retreat by God’s decree, announcing us as the loser. Shouldn’t we be a little bitter about the outcome? Prize the weak and shun the strong, hm? Such are the ways of God.”
Sie noted how eased he was and was pleased. Mad Hatter praised hirself to be a good host, unlike Duke Astaroth. He was playing just fine, after catching the rules of the game.
Such a different history. Such a different God. The essence felt the same, but with far more betrayal and deceit within. He had to wonder what such a Hell would have been like, to have been descended from. His own lineage came from anything but simplicity, but he was so familiar with it all, Mad Hatter's tales seemed so much more confusing and extensive than his own. It intrigued him, to be honest. Especially if all demons and fallen ones were as intriguing as the one before him.
To rule a Hell like that would have been most interesting.
"I can't disagree with your embitterment. I fathom it fairly akin to the feelings of those betrayed in my world. Have you ever attempted a reprisal of that battle?”
Belial grinned at that last question, eyes shadowed by the brim of its hat. Sie waited to answer, reaching out for a couple of supple cherries. They were called the Devil’s fruit for something. Sie ate one and crushed the others with hir fist, staining white gloves with the red, sticky juice. To be vindicated against the Children of Heaven had been one of hir old goals and when sie was finally achieving that… everything changed for the better.
Only Mad Hatter would have wished for the Adam Kadmon would have transmitted the holy message before their ways had been set so far into stone.
“We almost did. Then everything was fixed and both sides parted in more or less amicable terms of no-intervention,” was the belated answer. “How anticlimactic end, don’t you agree? But an end everyone needed regardless. Hell and Heaven… only existed in our minds. There were no absolutes in anything - that was our lesson to learn and took us eons. My, such slow children… despite our origin.”
Vergil carefully studied the fallen one's movements. So flippant and calm. It spoke of the age of that creature before him. From what little that Vergil could remember, his father was just as calm and laid back. It was something that poured over into the behavior of his mother, who became far more uptight when Sparda disappeared from their lives. She always had been susceptible to demonic personality, however.
"And thus, would you say that you have reached absolution in learning there were no absolutes?" Vergil asked calmly. "Or do you still crave for something more?" Because, Vergil added to himself, if it were him, to come to a level end would simply not be enough. Surely the wise demon across from him, and those in his...her...its immediate rungs could be appreciative of a quest for more despite?
The drops of the cherry juice slid and fell to the ground - dripping with the sound of silver bells, smelling no longer to fruit but to fresh blood. “What an easy question you pose with an obvious answer,” Belial remarked as sie smeared the crimson on hir lips as if was rouge. “If a creature, demon or angel or human, stops craving, they stop living. To live is to want. Each breath, each fluttering beat of our hearts is an expectation of something we desire to accomplish. That is the meaning of life.”
Sie crossed hir legs and pointed a bloodied index finger up: “There is something this humble jester craves for. The only thing that keeps this body living. Once one is satisfied, there won’t be a reason to live for.” None, not even Princess Kurai would be reason enough to Belial stay in a dull world, despite how hir black heart clutched to leave the poor darling alone. “It has nothing to do with Heaven or God or men. One has victories scored against those already. What one desires above everything is Hellborn.”
That was something of great satisfaction to hear, although puzzling for the fact that what could the creature desire from where the creature dwelt? Hellborn, correct? "I'm unsure if I follow that last piece, Mad Hatter."
The tea finished, and not wanting a bit more, Vergil moved to the edge of his seat and straightened himself proudly. His right eyebrow quirked and he titled his head to the side. "Or is that riddle but to keep your audience as interested as you spoke of before, to be learned not told?" Perhaps Hellborn was a term for something... Vergil was unsure. Questions never hurt a thing, however, and Vergil took pride in that he could shamelessly question to get the correct answers. Even if he did so with in a shamelessly prideful way, from time to time.
“Hmm… Hmm! Hellborn… this means what one wants is connected to Hell rather than the long, lost Heaven,” the jester clarified with an enigmatic smile, faking a comical shocked expression by placing dramatically a hand to cover hir mouth. “My! How this jester has loose the tongue into uninteresting subjects like private affairs. You won’t care about a humble Court clown’s life goal, heed the word and ask another question,” sie encouraged, picking the tea pot. “More tea?”
Copper eyebrows raised, Mad Hatter awaited for Vergil decided next question, moving away from the personal ground. The affairs of hir heart and quest for Lucifer’s love were hardly a secret for the residents of Sheol and Princess Kurai of Gehenna. But sie knew this youngling wouldn’t understand that battles and ruling weren’t the end of all challenges. So green yet, so much to learn how the battles were ragging in their very hearts. Maybe someday, he didn’t look past the human adolescence - a young soul.
Vergil held up a hand. "No. I'm fine, thank you." Polite, polite. The demon was receiving more courtesy than any mortal. While it was debated whether or not Vergil and his brother were mortal or not, Vergil decided long ago to carry himself as the child of an immortal noble should. Mortals, humans, they were beneath him in every way. Demons, namely those cordial and not seeking to kill him for his father's sins, were awarded far more a cordial respect in return.
"It grows late, and I wish to visit the library a woman named Elendira informed me of," he replied honestly. "But one last question, I do have, as a matter of fact." He paused, to lean over the table moreso, his eyes narrowing intently; studiously. "How does one gain power in your Hell?"
Bookworm? Or following the old saying of knowledge is power? That sort of powerful information is seldom found in a library, in Mad Hatter’s opinion. Did he know that yet?
“Hell has no loyalty – what is a demon if not someone who rebels to the greater power? No rules but to take what you want if you can,” replied Mad Hatter, setting the pot aside after pouring tea to hir cup. Sie sipped calmly the content and graced Vergil with direct eye contact. “There are, of course, those who always would be better; those who have risen above the fallen and that are members of the demonic Court. Many demons weren’t even angels but lesser creatures that live now in Hell, among the angels; there are Seven hand chosen by the Emperor Lucifer, his generals who hold domain over sections of Hell. Each of them represents a cardinal sin what our Lord encompasses wholly in his infinite glory.” Sie sawed on the chair, swirling the tea on hir lap, eyes still on Vergil. “To be appointed a personal servant of the Seven Satans is an honor a handful count with. Under their protection, you’ll have survival and wealth assured.”
"Hardly what I seek, but valuable information nonetheless." Pushing from his chair, Vergil leant on his hands against the table. "In mine, it is the humans who implore demonic sovereignty in exchange for power and wealth on the mortal plane, regardless of the deal involving their souls. In Hell, the immortal in kind do as you said--fight and betray to rise and fulfill the insatiable thirst for more and more.
"It isn't enough to be one of a Court, but to be one of one, and one over all." And that was exactly what Vergil was in for, and that was betrayed on his face as he straightened and carefully stepped from the table. "This was a lovely unbirthday party, Mad Hatter. Perhaps next time we shall have one for you?" The high demon was, after all, an ally that Vergil refused to let slip. "My treat, of course."
Humanity?
“The poor lambs want the demon kin in power?” Belial asked in amusement, chuckling at the very idea. There were devil worshippers but their Heaven and Hell were busy with internal affairs to bother with humankind. “One can’t say there is a grudge between humans and our fallen kind. Angels often mistreat them worse than us do! Humans live in Assiah and we corrupted them against God to make the good father sweat in the past, shared our tales of heroism and that was before the change. Now we have other matters to attend. Souls could be useful even so….” Sie let it slid. In the past, Belial visited two towns at the shores of the Dead Sea and had scattered the teachings of sin to the citizens. But was more evil? The depravity of Sodom and Gomorrah or their sad ends at the hands of divine punishment? Often, many wondered that brand of “justice.”
“Should your ears carefully listen to the former advice - One has given you a straight answer of how to gain power in Hell, safe and fast: serve; serve the powerful in rank. That is the easiest means to reach a higher position. If you employ brute force day and night, there would be many who would not respect you. All the time you would have to test yourself as fearsome and one little slip would be… fatal. If you fight against Hell, you would never belong there.”
Mad Hatter stood when he did, taking the hat between hir hands. "So kind and generous, Vergil, one would have to refuse for the impossibility of it," sie explained. "Those who were created were never born. Therefore this humble jester doesn't have either: unbirthday or birthday to celebrate."
There was a slide over the Mad Hatter's suggestion on how best to rule Hell. Their Hells were simply too different, in that respect. Power was everything. Power was strength, and power brought fear. And with fear and cruelty did one successfully rule the Hell to which Vergil felt entitled. He could not penalize the demon for that, however.
"Is that so?" Vergil asked calmly. He stopped his feet from making way to his exit, and calmly looked over his shoulder. "That simply will not do. Not at all. Time started at some point, and so did you. But I'll let you have this for now. We'll simply have to find something else to celebrate for an esteemed ally such as yourself, hm?"
Still green, he appeared to be. Those visible on top were always defied. Those who manipulate the strings were spared of this issue. But he would keep his youthful dreams of ultimate power, those were tastier with a touch of pride. When he grew old and wise, he would realize the mistake of this way.
If he survived…
“If you insist, how could this jester decline?” Mad Hatter asked with a head bowed with the hat pressing at hir chest. Body already half-way phasing through the ground below. “Good evening to you. It pleases one you have enjoyed the tea party…” Sie snapped hir fingers and everything disappeared: the table, the lights and the shape of the room around him. Two pair of butterflies were left to guide Vergil’s path through the darkness towards the exit of the Circus Carnivore.
Rating; PG?
Characters; Vergil (
devilingenuity) and Mad Hatter (proudbutterfly). Summary; A half demon who craves to rule his Hell meets a demon who secretly pulls the strings of power in hirs to celebrate his un-birthday.
Log;
It was very surreal to the half-blooded demon as he found himself standing in the middle of very literally a circus. Mad Hatter hadn't been joking in the slightest, had he...she? The concept of a demon being based off of Alice in Wonderland wasn't something that Vergil was entirely shocked over. It had been amidst one of his favorite stories, and all subsequent editions after that, growing up. Although the reason varied. As a child, it was what his father would read to him and taught him to read back, and as he grew older, the underlying metaphor for the descent to Hell was something he couldn't ignore.
Hands in the dark blue duster he wore over clothes of the business-casual sort, Yamato, his katana, was carefully concealed. It wasn't there by means of asserting authority, although he would make quick use of it if the need passed. Around him, the feelings were indescribable. It almost felt like a pending adrenaline rush, and made him feel more awake and alive than he had been since he'd arrived.
The table he stood before was surely Mad Hatter's tea party table, set up for the unbirthday celebration she (he?) mentioned over the network. Vergil approached the table to look over the contents there, while attempting to feel out any particularly unique presences in hopes to pinpoint Mad Hatter before Mad Hatter's arrival to him.
Lights of yellow, purple and magenta bathed the room, noises of laughter, screams and a lone, melodious violin played at the background. There was no one, no one around. That room was a pocked place made for not disturbances as the Mad Hatter had hir tea party with the princeling. That was hir moniker for the arrogant Vergil. Sie did not mind his sense of pride one bit, oh no, no, how could the very Satan cardinal of the foulest sin disapproved of the charge.
It’s so delicious… sweet to one’s tongue.
The Jester waited until the guest took a good view of the table, teaset and the delicious treats above it before making hir entrance. A swarm of butterflies came flying from all directions, they were a class of swallowtail, poisonous to touch. In a heartbeat they joined together and vanished, spreading a bright, sparkling dust smelling to perfume. The demon emerged from the ground between Vergil and the table, casually wearing a stripped and stylish, black and white overcoat, black pants and a white top hat. Short, slick hair of the color of the butterfly wings, orange red, and eyes blue; the demon’s feminine features was concealed with a mask of perfect white, jester make-up. Chest flat, narrow hips like a man’s, but toned arms and legs as a woman: Mad Hatter was androgyny in flesh.
That’s how sie like to keep it; His designs for hir gender would be damned.
“Greetings and salutations! Welcome to the tea party, Vergil! One’s the Mad Hatter, Court jester and Ringmaster of Circus Carnivore,” greeted Belial tipping hir hat and taking a bow. “Sit quickly, before time ticks away and we run of chances to celebrate your unbirthday!”
Vergil's face remained calm as he watched the demon appear. The power behind the androgynous demon before him was fascinatingly strong, and burned his nose and eyes from its potency. Had Mad Hatter been a mortal, the fact that the demon was neither he nor she would have bothered him to a point of scoffing and insults, but that was a testament to Vergil's feelings of his own superiority over humans. Despite sharing their blood half-way, he cared not at all for the majority of them. A few had left colorful markings in his life, on his journey to gaining more power, but most passed by his mind without a second thought. Perhaps if they utilized the power they truly held instead of believing it not existing...
Demons, on the other hand.
Vergil started for the nearest end from where he sat, hands never leaving their pockets as he strode to do as Mad Hatter wished. "You waste time not, do you, Mad Hatter?"
Belial watched Vergil, knowing this man needed a colorful entrance to feel flattered. Strong words he had exchanged when spoken to hir humble self and wanted to give it praise for a glimpse of playful power. As the emissary of Sheol, Mad Hatter had a duty to uphold into give a strong first impression, good or bad were meaningless when exerting power in the lowest layer of Hell.
Hir lips curled into a smile; head still low by the bow, frame hidden by the falling strands of hair.
“Wasting time is a nasty, little custom Duke Astaroth is fond of; none of that is good for this jester. Time can’t be wasted, that’s a luxury few have in the bowels of Hell.” Sie took hir place on the opposite extreme of the table after him, of course, pouring tea and have it appear just in front of Vergil. “Drink and eat, noble guest! ‘Tis your unbirthday here. One doesn’t have neither, birthday or unbirthday to celebrate.”
The tea appearing before Vergil stirred a vague reaction, much to Vergil's distaste for himself. Emotions were a sign of weakness, in his opinion, and reactions were emotions. It was a circle in his mind, but he quickly coated it in his solid face from before. The tea cup was lifted to be sniffed at, and Vergil was certain that a member of Hell's higher positions would more than understand his caution. Despite Mad Hatter's humility over him...herself, Vergil could feel there was more there than what was admitted.
"And yet you find the time to pass sitting and speaking in rhythm over tea?" An eyebrow quirked in Mad Hatter's position; a show of humor, more than anything. "Is your Hell so colorful as this?"
Every motion Vergil did, sie took note. It was measured with a casual, subtle observation, schooled by eons of living that made mindgames Belial’s preferred lifestyle. The princeling had potential in making but he was clearly still so green and in need of a hand to make him bloom. Ah, but a jester wasn’t suitable for a mentor, regardless of hir thoughts in this. Vergil would have to catch up by himself with time.
“Sugar?” Mad Hatter offered mirthfully, delaying to answer his question while she added two cubes into hir tea. “One was hoping to hear about your Hell, first. There have been some details spoken about one’s home already. Pretty much, this Hatter spends leisure days organizing tea parties and entertaining the Court. What else would a humble jester do in absence of His Majesty to rule?”
"My Hell?" How to explain it to someone not only from Hell, but from a parallel Hell no less? The offer for sugar was passed over. While Vergil had a rather keen sweet tooth, he also had the ability to control it. He was concerned about neither food nor drink at that point. He allowed a pause to sip the tea, before placing the cup back onto its saucer.
"My Hell has been sealed for two millennia. If you're on one side, it's next to impossible to venture to the other. The seal of my father's doing holds strong, but with all seals, it is far from perfect." His hands laced together by the fingers, and he rested his elbows on the table. Ice-blue eyes circle with shadows caused by Vergil's knack of neglecting certain necessities that cursed him on his human side watched the creature before him. The genderless creature was abstract but elegant. Amazing that any Hell could hold such. "Tales say it ugly and dark, wet and repulsive with its leader as beautiful as an angel, however."
Belial was listening, reclining on cushioned back of the seat, drinking with serenity the cup of tea, pausing to sample on cherries or snacks. Butterflies appeared again made of light, glowing orange and red and posing at the edges of the table as candles. Hir blue eyes bored into his. Ahh, sie did like the color of them: cold and blue like a frozen river just like Lord Lucifer’s. But they held nothing of his Majesty’s contempt that made the once proud Virtue of Heaven fell hopelessly in love with him.
Beautiful as an angel…
Lord Lucifer?
“An angel?” Belial ventured, sitting up straight, eyelashes fluttering and setting the cup on the saucer. “Does this angel have a name?”
That caught the creature's attention, and Vergil supposed it was understandable. Vergil was just as intrigued about learning about Mad Hatter's as Mad Hatter seemed to be with his. "It depends on the religion. His name to Sparda was Mundus. But he also goes under the name of Lucifer, Satan, and a menagerie of others.
"It's not unheard of, as I'm sure you know. After all, Elijah managed to force seventeen names from the lips of the demonic duchess, Lilith." His eyebrow quirked again in humor, this time the corner of his lip twitching along with. "Which makes me wonder the score of names in possession to my current company."
Mundus?
Belial frowned. What kind of name was Mundus? It sounded like a human dish or sickness instead of the proper name for a lord of Hell. Unlike Vergil, Mad Hatter was expressive with hir emotions. The greatest mastership was to control them without fearing repercussions in hir understanding, not to pointlessly repressing them. Why would sie dread reactions?
“Oh, so now you are interested in one’s appellations, Vergil? Why for? They aren’t of one’s personal taste unlike Mad Hatter, see,” Belial grinned mischievously. “Only one fallen angel ruling the depths of Hell? How are the other demons? Grotesque and animalistic or with these forms?” Sie pointed to him and then to hirself.
Mad Hatter's expression to the name was amusing, though not unexpected. It was a grotesque name, though oddly translated to a meaning of elegance in Latin. Vergil sat back and mused over Mad Hatter's retort to Vergil's inquiry. "Fair enough. Your current designation will suit me well."
And further inquiry on Mad Hatter's side about Vergil's Hell. "God cursed the Fallen Ones with forms of horror and disgust. However, this is truly in the eyes of the beholder. The high demons with which I have been faced in my life have a certain, unmistakeable beauty to them. Majestic in their cursed forms. However, not even their Hellish beauty could make them strong enough, in the end.
"The most powerful have the ability to emulate the bodies of humans, not only possess them. My father's human form was not unlike my own."
Weak meaning, ugly sounding name, Mad Hatter was one for vainglory in the end, as pride in flesh. Sie let him explain about the cursed forms and hellish figures of grotesque nightmares demons of his world donned by God’s will. It’s truth hir own was not much different, but it was in their choices to become such way, forgetting their ties with Heaven. All but a few “sane” of the seven Satans.
“How cruel your God was to force His children abandon their celestial beauty,” Mad Hatter pointed out, lifting the teacup to hir red lips. “So you have fought them within this strong seal that keeps them inside. But, one wonders, if they have a hierarchy, Mundus aside, there is no Court for jesters entertain?”
Sie reclined on the chair once more, stretching one arm for a butterfly move to pose on the tip of hir fingernails.
"Actually, they have found rips in the seal left by my father, and come to me for comeuppance for his betrayal," Vergil explained calmly over the rim of his tea cup before taking another sip. "I'm sure it's no secret to you that demons smell lineage in the blood."
He placed the cup down, pretending to be more concerned with it than the lithe movements of Mad Hatter. Studying movements told much about a person's persona. Mad Hatter was so casual and unconcerned. Fitting for the degree of power that Vergil sensed.
"There is a court that resides under Mundus. A line of Arch Dukes and Duchesses reside beneath him. At one time it was he, then my father, and then the Arch Nobles. The Arch Dukes and Duchesses fronted appearance through the ages as the multitude of pagan gods and goddesses across the globe, you see."
“Tut-Tut. Don’t assume we can smell blood,” Belial murmured, amused, waving hir hand to a side; butterfly still attached to the fingertips. “We see beyond bodies, we see right to the signature of your soul and aura. One knows you aren’t human because your soul simply isn’t.” Sie gave him a sheepish grin and encouraged him to continue.
“What do you say are the most renowned demons after… Mundus and Sparda if there is any worthy of mention in your honest opinion. One’s not very impressed by a Court of Fools who allowed one of theirs seal them so easily. Demons should learn how their natures are before this event surprised them.”
It was frankly baffling and stupid to the Satan’s eyes. Truth, their Hell had been destroyed but Adam Kadmon restored it and the events that unchained their destruction also triggered the collapse of the lower layers of Heaven with the prelude of the third great war. To think one single demon had turned and done something as reckless…
"Then yours works different than mine." It was matter-of-fact, and while Vergil was quite fascinated by the idea, he also wasn't shocked. After all, that was the ability he used to determine one's true demeanor, and their sins. That was how he determined that preacher's innocence in the square, as a matter of fact.
"Worth mentioning? Hm. None, to be honest. I can barely remember the names of those who have dared to try to punish me for my father's steps. If one can barely take on a half-blood, then there is no reason for me to be at all concerned with their designations." It was said with a flippant wave at the end. "From what I understand, the battle lasted for many centuries in the human world, after it was discovered that my father's heart awoke to 'the light'."
Belial was amused at the flippant wave. Such pride, he reeked in this and that made Vergil more appetizing to keep close by while drinking tea. He was the main treat for a demon of hir status, knowingly or unknowingly. It wasn’t as if the Satan would hurt this child.
“It seems to be the case, if one is allowed to point the obvious,” Mad Hatter remarked unhelpfully. “Awaken light, what curious imagery! Did he become an angel again? With shiny, white wings and a holy aura to blind everyone? Most interesting!” Sie clapped at the idea; butterfly fading into glowing dust. “However, once fallen, never risen again, innocence is lost if it ever existed. You are his flesh and blood; your soul doesn’t have Heaven’s touch but the taint of Hell.”
The tea cup was placed down once more, Vergil's eyes closing at Mad Hatter's words. Indeed, that was true. The demon was better than Vergil originally assumed, and he chastized himself for not assuming as much. He would have to get his mind away from what was conventional in his life, if he seeked to be able to integrate into the world of demonic presences in the City.
"My father forsook the majority of his powers, to create the seal between the Human World and the Demon World. From there, his divine gift was to merely take the form of a human and reign in shadows for two millennia, afterwhich he took a human bride and bore nephilim sons. His bride and one son slaughtered, the other whisked away by the cruel hands of humans as just a child." To see if Mad Hatter would catch the allusion there, considering Vergil made mention of his brother in the City, was what Vergil truly sought in saying as much.
“Yet you live as does your brother,” pointed the Mad Hatter, lifting an index finger, pressing the digit to hir smiling lips. “Such miraculous resurrection that must have been. Keep the secret if you cherish; life wouldn’t be interesting if you tell everything, don’t you agree? To keep the party interested and know when to pause is also a lesson of bargaining.”
So sie lied about guidance. But he was so inexperienced. A warrior, sie would see he was worthy by the boasting success in slaying, but in this type of battleground, he was speaking far too much, detailing into things sie hadn’t even dreamed to ask. Prying over his history wasn’t the demon’s concern, no matter how much Vergil’s pride dictated to tell about the fascinating tale of his family. He shouldn’t expect Belial to speak about hir humble self.
“What are your questions, honored guest? Drink more tea and let your thirst be alleviate. You deserve it after speaking this long!” Sie tipped the brim of the top hat and waited.
It was sad, but true, though Vergil knew it not. To humans, Vergil's tongue was hardpressed to move. But to demons, that was another story. Most likely it was the youth in him, seeking to impress the other. He smelt so much power emanating, and even then, how loose his tongue had become escaped him.
Ah, but Mad Hatter's behavior struck the pride of Vergil and made him feel more confident and cocky than he was before. To get respect, not an attempt at death, from something originating from the noble lines of Hell (even if a different Hell, and even if but an entertainer), was something that the young half-blood fed on with his ego. But what to ask? What to ask. "You said that they forswore their angelic forms to sever from God, not that their forms were stripped in punishment?"
At his dignified silence and quick thinking, Belial graced him with a nod of approval. Children, so stupidly eager sometimes. Well, it appeared sie was getting to old; but clowns love to deal with little kids, don’t they? So would the mockery of jester sie had set hirself to be to every eye and eye ear around hirself: that was the charade built to strengthen Mad Hatter in Hell.
“No, they weren’t; most chose to forsake them, however,” Belial explained, “Even those who were supposed to rule, followed this childish pretensions of never have been angels and mutilated their bodies into grotesque shapes. Beelzebub, for instance, decided to take up the shape of a monstrous fly after humans nicknamed him the Lord of the flies. Mammon of a raven. Leviathan, another important one, decided to live in the veins of Hell, seas and rivers made of lava and acid, as a great dragon. They claim that fair shapes are fragile for that hostile environment. To be deny Heaven by our Father, means they have to deny the bodies graced by His doing.”
Well, not every of them. Belial had never forsaken hir fair form. That had been wasteful. Butterflies was a preferred form and they were nothing but seemly fragile and beautiful. Just opposite to their thoughts.
Vergil listened intently to his company's tale. It was ont that Vergil found himself able to appreciate. Shunning away their forms for another to deny what was given to them originally... Demons were bitter in his world over their heavenly forms being stripped from them. However, in Mad Hatter's world...
He took a calm sip of the tea, eyes closed to emphasize how casual he was, and only after he placed it down, did he ask, "What did God do that caused such anger? To cast away forms of beauty for monstrosities that would be feared throughout the ages by mortal man? Or was that not even a consideration, with mortals regarded too lowly to matter, and the decision made as an explicit rejection of His gifts?"
“Rebellion against his designs until the last breath,” Mad Hatter announced, wiping gingerly with a napkin the remnants of a sweet snack. “That is what demons do best. We played our cards and he won, but to deny the beauty he laid down us was our choice as much. Bodies are his temple. We deprave them and twist them into something… so ugly.” Sie pointed to hirself, including this time doing something alike that.
“Hell was nothingness; God cast out us into a little Oblivion. It was Lord Lucifer who created life from nothing, His body fused with the land to give it Being for us to remain. Life was hard and we were denied Heaven in a war we didn’t lose. Michael’s armies were defeated by his Brother and yet, He was forced to retreat by God’s decree, announcing us as the loser. Shouldn’t we be a little bitter about the outcome? Prize the weak and shun the strong, hm? Such are the ways of God.”
Sie noted how eased he was and was pleased. Mad Hatter praised hirself to be a good host, unlike Duke Astaroth. He was playing just fine, after catching the rules of the game.
Such a different history. Such a different God. The essence felt the same, but with far more betrayal and deceit within. He had to wonder what such a Hell would have been like, to have been descended from. His own lineage came from anything but simplicity, but he was so familiar with it all, Mad Hatter's tales seemed so much more confusing and extensive than his own. It intrigued him, to be honest. Especially if all demons and fallen ones were as intriguing as the one before him.
To rule a Hell like that would have been most interesting.
"I can't disagree with your embitterment. I fathom it fairly akin to the feelings of those betrayed in my world. Have you ever attempted a reprisal of that battle?”
Belial grinned at that last question, eyes shadowed by the brim of its hat. Sie waited to answer, reaching out for a couple of supple cherries. They were called the Devil’s fruit for something. Sie ate one and crushed the others with hir fist, staining white gloves with the red, sticky juice. To be vindicated against the Children of Heaven had been one of hir old goals and when sie was finally achieving that… everything changed for the better.
Only Mad Hatter would have wished for the Adam Kadmon would have transmitted the holy message before their ways had been set so far into stone.
“We almost did. Then everything was fixed and both sides parted in more or less amicable terms of no-intervention,” was the belated answer. “How anticlimactic end, don’t you agree? But an end everyone needed regardless. Hell and Heaven… only existed in our minds. There were no absolutes in anything - that was our lesson to learn and took us eons. My, such slow children… despite our origin.”
Vergil carefully studied the fallen one's movements. So flippant and calm. It spoke of the age of that creature before him. From what little that Vergil could remember, his father was just as calm and laid back. It was something that poured over into the behavior of his mother, who became far more uptight when Sparda disappeared from their lives. She always had been susceptible to demonic personality, however.
"And thus, would you say that you have reached absolution in learning there were no absolutes?" Vergil asked calmly. "Or do you still crave for something more?" Because, Vergil added to himself, if it were him, to come to a level end would simply not be enough. Surely the wise demon across from him, and those in his...her...its immediate rungs could be appreciative of a quest for more despite?
The drops of the cherry juice slid and fell to the ground - dripping with the sound of silver bells, smelling no longer to fruit but to fresh blood. “What an easy question you pose with an obvious answer,” Belial remarked as sie smeared the crimson on hir lips as if was rouge. “If a creature, demon or angel or human, stops craving, they stop living. To live is to want. Each breath, each fluttering beat of our hearts is an expectation of something we desire to accomplish. That is the meaning of life.”
Sie crossed hir legs and pointed a bloodied index finger up: “There is something this humble jester craves for. The only thing that keeps this body living. Once one is satisfied, there won’t be a reason to live for.” None, not even Princess Kurai would be reason enough to Belial stay in a dull world, despite how hir black heart clutched to leave the poor darling alone. “It has nothing to do with Heaven or God or men. One has victories scored against those already. What one desires above everything is Hellborn.”
That was something of great satisfaction to hear, although puzzling for the fact that what could the creature desire from where the creature dwelt? Hellborn, correct? "I'm unsure if I follow that last piece, Mad Hatter."
The tea finished, and not wanting a bit more, Vergil moved to the edge of his seat and straightened himself proudly. His right eyebrow quirked and he titled his head to the side. "Or is that riddle but to keep your audience as interested as you spoke of before, to be learned not told?" Perhaps Hellborn was a term for something... Vergil was unsure. Questions never hurt a thing, however, and Vergil took pride in that he could shamelessly question to get the correct answers. Even if he did so with in a shamelessly prideful way, from time to time.
“Hmm… Hmm! Hellborn… this means what one wants is connected to Hell rather than the long, lost Heaven,” the jester clarified with an enigmatic smile, faking a comical shocked expression by placing dramatically a hand to cover hir mouth. “My! How this jester has loose the tongue into uninteresting subjects like private affairs. You won’t care about a humble Court clown’s life goal, heed the word and ask another question,” sie encouraged, picking the tea pot. “More tea?”
Copper eyebrows raised, Mad Hatter awaited for Vergil decided next question, moving away from the personal ground. The affairs of hir heart and quest for Lucifer’s love were hardly a secret for the residents of Sheol and Princess Kurai of Gehenna. But sie knew this youngling wouldn’t understand that battles and ruling weren’t the end of all challenges. So green yet, so much to learn how the battles were ragging in their very hearts. Maybe someday, he didn’t look past the human adolescence - a young soul.
Vergil held up a hand. "No. I'm fine, thank you." Polite, polite. The demon was receiving more courtesy than any mortal. While it was debated whether or not Vergil and his brother were mortal or not, Vergil decided long ago to carry himself as the child of an immortal noble should. Mortals, humans, they were beneath him in every way. Demons, namely those cordial and not seeking to kill him for his father's sins, were awarded far more a cordial respect in return.
"It grows late, and I wish to visit the library a woman named Elendira informed me of," he replied honestly. "But one last question, I do have, as a matter of fact." He paused, to lean over the table moreso, his eyes narrowing intently; studiously. "How does one gain power in your Hell?"
Bookworm? Or following the old saying of knowledge is power? That sort of powerful information is seldom found in a library, in Mad Hatter’s opinion. Did he know that yet?
“Hell has no loyalty – what is a demon if not someone who rebels to the greater power? No rules but to take what you want if you can,” replied Mad Hatter, setting the pot aside after pouring tea to hir cup. Sie sipped calmly the content and graced Vergil with direct eye contact. “There are, of course, those who always would be better; those who have risen above the fallen and that are members of the demonic Court. Many demons weren’t even angels but lesser creatures that live now in Hell, among the angels; there are Seven hand chosen by the Emperor Lucifer, his generals who hold domain over sections of Hell. Each of them represents a cardinal sin what our Lord encompasses wholly in his infinite glory.” Sie sawed on the chair, swirling the tea on hir lap, eyes still on Vergil. “To be appointed a personal servant of the Seven Satans is an honor a handful count with. Under their protection, you’ll have survival and wealth assured.”
"Hardly what I seek, but valuable information nonetheless." Pushing from his chair, Vergil leant on his hands against the table. "In mine, it is the humans who implore demonic sovereignty in exchange for power and wealth on the mortal plane, regardless of the deal involving their souls. In Hell, the immortal in kind do as you said--fight and betray to rise and fulfill the insatiable thirst for more and more.
"It isn't enough to be one of a Court, but to be one of one, and one over all." And that was exactly what Vergil was in for, and that was betrayed on his face as he straightened and carefully stepped from the table. "This was a lovely unbirthday party, Mad Hatter. Perhaps next time we shall have one for you?" The high demon was, after all, an ally that Vergil refused to let slip. "My treat, of course."
Humanity?
“The poor lambs want the demon kin in power?” Belial asked in amusement, chuckling at the very idea. There were devil worshippers but their Heaven and Hell were busy with internal affairs to bother with humankind. “One can’t say there is a grudge between humans and our fallen kind. Angels often mistreat them worse than us do! Humans live in Assiah and we corrupted them against God to make the good father sweat in the past, shared our tales of heroism and that was before the change. Now we have other matters to attend. Souls could be useful even so….” Sie let it slid. In the past, Belial visited two towns at the shores of the Dead Sea and had scattered the teachings of sin to the citizens. But was more evil? The depravity of Sodom and Gomorrah or their sad ends at the hands of divine punishment? Often, many wondered that brand of “justice.”
“Should your ears carefully listen to the former advice - One has given you a straight answer of how to gain power in Hell, safe and fast: serve; serve the powerful in rank. That is the easiest means to reach a higher position. If you employ brute force day and night, there would be many who would not respect you. All the time you would have to test yourself as fearsome and one little slip would be… fatal. If you fight against Hell, you would never belong there.”
Mad Hatter stood when he did, taking the hat between hir hands. "So kind and generous, Vergil, one would have to refuse for the impossibility of it," sie explained. "Those who were created were never born. Therefore this humble jester doesn't have either: unbirthday or birthday to celebrate."
There was a slide over the Mad Hatter's suggestion on how best to rule Hell. Their Hells were simply too different, in that respect. Power was everything. Power was strength, and power brought fear. And with fear and cruelty did one successfully rule the Hell to which Vergil felt entitled. He could not penalize the demon for that, however.
"Is that so?" Vergil asked calmly. He stopped his feet from making way to his exit, and calmly looked over his shoulder. "That simply will not do. Not at all. Time started at some point, and so did you. But I'll let you have this for now. We'll simply have to find something else to celebrate for an esteemed ally such as yourself, hm?"
Still green, he appeared to be. Those visible on top were always defied. Those who manipulate the strings were spared of this issue. But he would keep his youthful dreams of ultimate power, those were tastier with a touch of pride. When he grew old and wise, he would realize the mistake of this way.
If he survived…
“If you insist, how could this jester decline?” Mad Hatter asked with a head bowed with the hat pressing at hir chest. Body already half-way phasing through the ground below. “Good evening to you. It pleases one you have enjoyed the tea party…” Sie snapped hir fingers and everything disappeared: the table, the lights and the shape of the room around him. Two pair of butterflies were left to guide Vergil’s path through the darkness towards the exit of the Circus Carnivore.