fxllenpythia

Latest Posts by fxllenpythia

Pythia

NAME/ALIASES. Leviathan, Python, Pythia AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric & Unknown SPECIES. Aspect GENDER & PRONOUNS. UTP AFFILIATIONS. Asphodel Coven OCCUPATION. UTP FACECLAIM SUGGESTIONS. Andrew Koji, Anya Taylor Joy, Benedetta Gargari, Berk Cankat, Brianne Tju, Kiowa Gordon, Cara Gee, Evan Mock, Conor Leslie, Lucien Laviscount, Josha Stradowski, Adria Arjona.

History

In the beginning they were known as Leviathan, among the first of Ulthar’s creations. Leviathan was an archangel that was born for war, a general in the armies of the divine that raged against the Old Gods that ruled the mortal realm. Centuries of conflict and grief punctuated the beginning of Leviathan’s life, it was when the final battle was won and the fighting was declared over that the archangel expected to reap the rewards that were promised to them - to live on the earth that they’d fought so long to inherit. When the fey came they brought with them the seasons, they brought the tides and the trees, all the things that would come to make the world beautiful and Titania promised this all on the condition that Ulthar lent his magic to hers and helped to create the first of mankind. Humanity. Born with free will but weak, breakable frames. Humans were to never know war or greed or pride, they were the jewels of Ulthar’s creation and the first of Titania’s children. When Leviathan’s father asked the angels to kneel - it was Lucifer who first refused. War was all Leviathan had ever known and when they fought next it was to earn the dominion that they already deserved, angels faced the fey of old back when they were still elves. The greatest of them fell, but it was Melpomene and her sisters that Leviathan drove back into the farthest reaches of the Otherworld, forgotten wind. Great as they were, the fallen were beaten and for their crimes The First, Oztalun, cast Leviathan into the Inferno - to the seventh circle where they came to go by a new name, Python.

Tiamat found them there, they whispered their plans for humanity and Python wove their influence into the heart of witches as the Inferno corrupted the fallen angel and gradually transformed them into a greater demon. Tiamat would come to be known by a new name as well, dread Persephone, true goddess of death, Python led her to the heart of the archdruid Netellia, deeming her weak and susceptible as the greater demon worked their way into the mortal realm via mass invocation. Though they were still weak, they held a blood pact that solidified their hold on all witches who invoked them for the power they offered. Through the necronomicon they were mae able to influence this world, every soul that was fed to it gave them more power, more influence. When one plan fell through another bloomed in its place, they were the great liar, the great deceiver, and they dwelt in the heart of all who looked to the dark for power. Pythia came as their final name, a title they earned as they ferried souls to the dark folds of the Asphodel, given form and power once again with the return of the ancient coven of darkness. Another mask, another lie, another name to hide behind. No one could see the dragon that lurked beneath, all the world against them - humans, angels, demons, witches, druids, fey, and still they would bring about the end. A revolution, the dawn of the new age, a return to a world of fire. The age of humanity would end and that of the forgotten would begin.

Connections

Octavian: Netellia died by Tiamat’s influence, but it was Python that felt the weakness in the archdruid’s heart. Octavian would come to blame Python for the corruption of his sister, and her ultimate death. 

Melpomene: In the war between the fallen and the divine, Leviathan defeated Melpomene and drove her back into the Otherworld, trapping her there for thousands of years. 

Michael: Siblings. Michael fought against Pythia during the rebellion and was part of the forces that condemned the fallen to the Inferno.

Abilities

Python: As a greater demon Pythia possesses all the powers of lesser demons: hellfire manipulation, telepathy, telekinesis, and the ability to shift into domestic animals. 

Fallen Archangel: Despite their connection being severed from the divine realm, Pythia is able to control the flow of magic, meaning they can turn any supernatural creature human, restore a chimera, heal feral vampires, and undo the packs they’ve made with blood witches. 

Immortal: Created from pure magic, Pythia is inhuman and cannot be killed. If their body is destroyed they will simply move on and possess another. 

Psychometry: As one of the fallen they’ve retained the power of psychometry, they can read the impressions left on objects, people, and places and establish a psychic link through this connection.

Weaknesses

Angelic: Hallowed ground burns their feet, as one of the fallen they’re incapable of stepping foot onto churches or graveyards. 

Demonic: Unable to cross salt lines, Pythia can be confined to a single form if they’re trapped within a circle of it.

Witches: All witches can sense the presence of the Pythia, blood witches in particular have made pacts with them under the guise of the greater demon Python and will know when they’re around. 

Possession: Does not have a form of their own, with permission they can possess the body of the living, or they can possess the body of the deceased. 

THIS SKELETON IS CURRENTLY CLOSED.

One moment, she stands before Vitoria, and the next tendrils of smoke carry her to the alcove the Narcissus once sat. There are a great many followers - or those soon to be, that Pythia listens to, eavesdropping for tidbits of information that would otherwise make it all the easier to twist them to her bidding. It hasn't gone amiss, that Vitoria, like her mother before her, is seeking more information on the world of blood magic. "You continue your search for knowledge," she smirks, all warmth and endearment as she pats the alcove beside her. "Yet you seek it out in the wrong places." Of course, she talks of the Amaranthus - those who may know the touch that blood magic can offer, but never the true gift of it. "You're on the verge of offending me, dear Vitoria. I thought we were friends."

who? @fxllenpythia where? the museum, staff area

There is a little alcove, hidden on the staff area of the museum, that Vee likes for it's emptiness. Hard to find, it is rarely inhabited, so she takes to taking naps or breaks on it when everything becomes too much. With Kaan gone, so it's one of her safety needs, and there is a suspicion raising on her chest that she does not want to acknowledge. So she doesn't, blinding herself willingly in this matter as she looks at the ceiling and exhales. She has time before anyone needs her, so she is considering sleeping, when a chillingly familiar presence approaches her. It is almost like welcoming an old friend, like seeing family after a long time.

Vitória has heard Pythia's voice ever since she was a child, the murmurs encouraging on her exploration of blood magic, their present constant at the back of her head.

Recognizing them it's easy, what comes after? Not so much.

"What do I owe this pleasure to?" She questions, standing up as graceful as she can manage and offering the Archfiend a bow of respect.

"As it should." It's deafening, the solidity in which she defiles the woman with her stoicism. It is how Leviathan has always intended it to be. Loyalty beyond all fault - and as it was with Kaan, their deception should be to all but her. "Necromancy is but a menial piece of all that you strive for. Appeasing Oztalun is all you need to do," it was something that Pythia could swallow, however barbed it was. The splinters of dark magic were otherworldly, and created the stepping stones to what the First offered. One did not exist without the other. "Should you wish to earn his favor, keeping mine would do you well," which wasn't entirely true - but Leviathan was certainly within the realm of taking all she'd offered away and then some. Undoubtedly, it'd land anyone in a bit of a pickle. "You'll make do." She smiles, like the edge of a jagged knife, "And how am I to trust that you're not of the same mindset Kaan was? Hm?"

a starter for @fxllenpythia, where: in between somewhere and nowhere

"It's funny, I've been loyal to this idea of you all my life, that appeasing another merely feels like treason," Python was always this dark whisper in the night, a tenebrous hug that nurtured, parasitic in it's need for more. Where loyalty to necromancy had been at the forefront of her very existent for some time, a new contender came forth under the First, or the Last as he'd been dreadfully converted to; but Efigenia was nothing if not a willing student under the pliable hands of dark magic. Loyalty was not to ever be confused for family, where she could sit amongst these equal horrors of dark arts, work alongside them and commit unspeakable acts; they all were only ever bound by their desires for the profane. "But I'll make do," she smiled, a catty tongue but for all of Pythia's influence the Advocate still would do anything the Archfiend requested, that much was clear.

"Get me Augustus' body." It's said without much thought, but neither do her plans grow too bold just yet. With her numbers dwindled - even with the souls of those beyond Rome, Pythia wouldn't strike again without having everything in check - not for the likes of being blinded once more. "Dead or alive." Undoubtedly, the archfiend held some sentimentality towards the former necromancer, but waste not want not. The ties he held were worth splintering in the same ways the Asphodel had been, "And find out where Lucrecia is hiding, I'm not nearly done with her." By choice, or otherwise; Leviathan was the very embodiment of violence; and her wrath would befall all of those who no longer served her purpose. "Kill whoever you have to."

Bastien's birth had only been for the power that his parents could garner, to create a coven where one had not been. He had been taught nothing aside from what he could do for his parents. That is, until Pythia had begun to whisper in his ear. Of the power that he could harness for himself, of the magic that lay dormant within him. It was the greater demon that had guided him to the forest, to the animals within and the visions that he could pull from the hands of the Graeae. And it was since then that his loyalty had been cemented, given over freely and without fault. Even when he had been imprisoned, when he'd been left with nothing but his visions. Even when others had fallen, had felt fear and fled from the ranks of the Asphodel. And even now, as his mind fractured, as a part of it weighed so heavily upon a certain elf, Bastien had remained with Pythia. "Ask of me anything that you wish, it will be yours freely," he affirmed, cementing his loyalty that much further to their cause. To the power that would be Pythia's, and subsequently, his own once a new book had been crafted. Once they had finalized what they had long since been working towards.

"It's... interesting," Pythia responds, uncertainty latching onto every nerve ending that impresses upon her that this is the only place she wishes to be in that moment. Ganymede's offer felt like something of a sideswipe, and despite her unlevel footing at the time, she'd been so quick to accept. "Free appetizers? So you're taking them for fools too," Her smile, though usually sharpened at every edge, curls almost gently now, as if appraising someone she didn't wish to skin alive. "Not to worry, it's not the first time and I'm sure it certainly won't be the last." An offhanded promise, that while the asphodel being splintered did undoubtedly dampen some of her plans, it didn't derail them entirely. "But I'm well, and you? I'm sure by now, you've heard about Ulthar and Elysia."

@fxllenpythia location: Applebys notes: dad's home

"I'm so glad we get to do this, I love it here." The lighting, the ambiance, the people. Everyone here was so nice, but then again, everyone here was so nice. "They always give me free appetisers when I ask for them, so you can order whatever you want, it's on me." Ganymede thought momentarily to the way Ulthar had gorged himself on Pythia's siblings, on his kids and felt his chest go tight before his voice went up an octave. "So how have you been? I'm sorry your club got broken up, that must have been hard for you."

"Unfortunately," Pythia murmurs, setting her sights upon the city that hails itself beyond the glass window. Riddled with the gifts of freedom that should have rightfully been theirs. A world subjugated by mortals and torn from the fingertips of all those fallen. "They think I'm done." It burns white hot within the pit of Levithan's chest, for it's far from over. White knuckles protrude as she cast a menial glance at Mammon upon his approach, "I offered a choice," albeit, a terrible one at that, it was the archfiend's olive branch. "And this is what they chose, this... pitiful, vile existence." Violence, she'd cast across the realm; scintillated pockets across Rome, a blink of all that she could do - all that they could do. "I made a mistake, one that I'll surely not make a second time."

where. somewhere she might be who. @fxllenpythia

"Has this realm always been so vile?" Or had their taste for it been significantly diminished since their return from the Inferno. Mammon had never cared for the little humans before, not unless they greatly interested him. For all seemed to be ever the same. One of the glasses in their hand was offered to the other, "How have you not already wiped them clean from this city?"

It grates her nerves and though he did, indeed, leer such greeting as a testament to what Leviathan had always envisioned, there's a pinching tease within it that makes her want to turn each of his snacks to dust within his pockets. "You're positively glowing," not nearly his glorifying beautiful garish self. It's insult to a festering wound and she's never wished to make a realm bleed as much as she does in this fleeting moment. "It's disgusting." The wave of her hand sends that which he holds flying across the room as she settles in beside him. "Hail Lucifer, indeed. Have you seen him? Since arriving?" Pythia certainly hadn't and it was one, among many, affronts to suffer through while her coven returned to hiding.

a starter for @fxllenpythia,

Abaddon was already feasting on his thirteenth emergency snack, little tidbits packed away in his vessel's coat that were proving to be an insufficient amount as the day was only half way through and he'd almost pilfered the entire stash. What some would look upon and label as stress-eating was merely Abaddon's sacred vice, though it was noted that the more he ate, the more under duress he actually was. Freed from in the Inferno, from the practical starvation suffered, Abaddon had gorged himself on the creatures and life within the Otherworld. He'd feasted for several days and nights until he felt comfortable, but an archfiend such as he could never be satiated. "Hail Lucifer," teased in greeting, Abaddon offered an empty and teasing smile to his sister; Leviathan, the creature whose vice was violence, even they were not spoiled to the plan to release their siblings from the pits of the Inferno.

It certainly wasn't the world in which she'd planned to release her brethren into, events of the end and all that Lilith kept from her certainly saw to that; alas, the deed was done and the blood that welcomed the archfiends lathered itself like milk upon the flesh of her host. "That was certainly not the intended outcome," and even those previously of hell itself, were prone to being blindsided; as if the original betrayal didn't come from their father, one in the very same, destroyer of Elysia. "All wasn't totally lost on him, devouring the lot of them is becoming more and more enticing." The great serpent, while seeking retribution towards their creator, could hold onto a semblance of humor in the news that he had swallowed each of the Blessed that remained above, whole. It was enough to unhinge her own jaw and paint herself a mirror image of Ulthar. "Their numbers dwindle," while those of the archfiend had only increased, "They so dearly wish to sacrifice in the name of this realm, and personally, I should like to let them." Ritual sacrifice, for the greater good.

@fxllenpythia location: Lake of Dis notes: thanks for the jailbreak u did gr8

Liars. Philanderers. Deceivers. Everywhere Ba'al went the dredges of this world were suffocating. Sardines packed so tight next to each other they might as well have stitched their bodies into one to save time, an act of convenience is what it'd be marketed as. Certainly gave him ideas, but while he was a devil he wasn't a sadist- that wasn't true, but he did prefer to watch rather than get his own hands dirty. The proximity of the realm above was one that he detested most of all, but for now he'd settle for letting the thirteen malebranche be his eyes and ears where he could not otherwise be. Then again, everyone was a liar these days.

"Elysia has fallen, Lucifer is King of-" there was a point to honestly, not that it mattered when it came from his lips, "nothing, for now. What are your plans for the seraphim that still remain? The ones our beloved father neglected to eat before he ran."

It's a tiresome speech, and one she's head over and over again. Just as the first to try, Valentina would find the dark hole of disappointment all those before her found. No matter the state of the world, the depths of evil within it would always look for her; violence. "You're beginning to sound like a child, Valentina." The sharp edge of her tone is almost condescending, "And petulance certainly doesn't become you." Of course, she wasn't entirely wrong - the temptation Python offered would always be more than anyone mortal was worthy of, and until one so depraved could cling to all she offered without become a whisp of their former selves. "Kaan died a fool, and he died to save none but himself." Had the sovereign held onto his anonymity, perhaps he wouldn't have rendered the Narcissus reputation little more than a handful of ashes. Unable to be trusted. "And yet, I still stand." Leviathan smirks, "Forgive me, for not holding my breath at this little... premise of my downfall, darling. You're hardly one with clear sight, if each downfall of your own life weren't telling enough - and to be quite honest," she pauses, "i've simply never put much weight into the hands of a hypocrite." The irony is not lost, in fact, it paints a smile of saccharine devastation across the archfiends features. "Now, move along, lest I make you."

Valentina wants to make a vow, a promise that she'll extinguish Pythia's grip on her loved ones before the Narcissus coven is completely dissolved but she always cursed those fools in the movies who told the villain their plan to do them in and ended up with a knife in their stomach for their efforts, she can operate in shadow and darkness -- such is a gift for a spirit and Narcissus never shied from doing what was necessary no matter the reputation it preceded. "You tempt souls into darkness and leave them to drown when the shadows consume, I know your true face Python and Kaan died to save those that you would gladly had for your slaughter, nothing more than fodder." She wondered how awful it must be to have such an empty existence. "He has always been my friend and he died my hero, I know how seductive you can be promising great grasps at power but speaking nothing of the empty husk that it leaves you. There is no one that has true allegiance to you and you'll learn of how cruel fate can be soon."

Natasha O'Keeffe + WHEEL OF TIME S2 Bloopers

First one's free.

"You're talking to the great deceiver, and foolishness has never been my downfall before." If the fact that she still stood - eons after she fell, after the plight of the old gods, the first destruction of the book. The greater demon was without a doubt, a plague upon the world of mortals and all those beyond. This was nothing new - rather, a new war, indeed. "Your concern is noted, but I sleep upon silken sheets of blood with the most wretched lovers at my beck and call - perhaps you're merely projecting." Her smile is wrought with tongue and cheek. Petty insults and proclamations do not make her waiver. "Is that what you want, Pluto - do you want to hurt me?" Again, where civil conversation cannot exist, Pythia exerts the goad in a rather childlike manner. "Agree to disagree then, shall we? Until you decide to use that bite for something other than clenching your jaw and brooding in darkened corners at least." A brow rose, defiant in nature, "I know what I want and what I deserve, that's all it comes down to."

"Don't be fooled, Pythia, words can be deceiving," and words can lead to false assumptions. Yes, he'd been all about love and loyalty, of keeping those he held dear safe, simply because of what happened to Cyra and how he'd failed her back then. Now, after the great war, technically but also not 15 years later, he saw Pythia as nothing more than an ambitious creature of immense hatred. What the world had to offer them would never be enough, what they desired would only lead to complete destruction. "I just think you need a good night's rest and get fucked nicely," he wasn't being serious, but a part of him just didn't care. "Kore's gone, I'm not opposed to hurting her allies," the original vampire shrugged. They could probably spew venom at each other for years to come, but Pluto didn't really desire to keep thinking about his captivity, his broken body and soul. "never lost it," in all honesty he was hungrier than ever, "and you? I see nothing can keep you down. How unfortunate."

The qualms of humanity, are ever-present, even within the living dead and she's quickly reminded of the fatal flaw of emotional connection as Valentina conjures to a near-corporeal form beside a rotting headstone. "I've taken much from you?" It's a haughty reiteration of such a claim, the saccharine curve of her lips unmistakable as she shakes her head in mild disbelief. "The shock factor that you lot cling to, it's exhausting. Truly." It was always, you've taken this, you've taken that - and never, look at all the things she'd made possible for someone like Valentina. Kaan - all those who revered her as the ultimate betrayer. "Kaan is the one who took from you, Val, darling. Now is not the time to misplace your feelings." Though, the challenge is there. "The price of betrayal has never been something I've kept close to my chest. Kaan understood the risk and took it anyway. Did he stand as your friend when he made the choice to turn his back on everything I've given him? Everything I'd given you? Knowing he would never succeed."

who: @fxllenpythia where: The Graveyard

Pythia was dangerous company to keep and Valentina didn't dare invite her within her sanctuary that the Narcissus estate was, most days she rarely unlocked the doors for the witches to leave unless they promised to return -- not wishing for the Estate to be a prison but the Wraith could be an dangerous spirit at times and she was controlled by her empathetic abilities, becoming emotional made her gain power and lose control. Python was a demon that had kept her company in life, she had split her palms to conjure magic and she dallied with the blood of others in ritual, it was pure luck that brought her back as a spirit instead of an accidental sacrifice. The leylines ran underneath the tombstones and made her stronger, more vivid in appearance as she stood in front of the fallen Seraphim. "You've gone far, you've taken much from me. Kaan is nowhere to be found in the spirit realm, I don't expect you to have a heart but there was once a day where I considered you a friend." Bitterness strained her voice as she was a fool then and miserable now.

For all that might have otherwise gone wrong, the darkness of momentary defeat had drawn Leviathan into the shadows. A place that didn't encompass the same disappointment for her that it did for so many. It was, instead, the same constant that the greater demon personified in the eons since tumbling from grace. The same place that those devoted would always find her. In every abyss conjured within themselves seeking something just a little darker - a little more powerful than the last. "Sentimentality doesn't become you, Tepiltzin." The arch of fondness tepid in the corner of her mouth is difficult to miss, there are few among the ranks of the Asphodel - scattered or no, that exist as far more than fodder. The hit she'd taken in lieu of Lilith's plan remained, and likely would for some time. Inevitable. Tiamat's destruction, while somewhat a surprise, had not been unanticipated. How could it, when the darkest beings in existence were brought together? "Your tenacity doesn't go unnoticed, however. A trait I've clearly overlooked in some of the others."

a starter for @fxllenpythia, where: gurl wherever pythia can be idk

The Criminal had survived countless years in his own solitary selfishness, he'd never needed a coven nor a pack of vampires; the once vampire had abandoned his own progeny countless of times and the Asphodel falling apart was a meaningless factor to him. The destruction of the book, however, Python's departure; that was everything to the liche who held onto so little. Such things were the few personal things the liche revolved upon and he'd not let them fade away into this new world that seemed so hellbent on destroying their path of greatness. "I was beginning to become a touch worried," everything he'd ever conquered in life had been under the direction of the greater demon and there was mild relief to find she did not simply fade away into defeat. They'd been destroyed before, a coven reduced to a slim margin of members, but they'd rebuilt from that, and they'd so do again, eventually.

It's nearly impossible to look beyond the irony in what Pluto claims. This, temporary essence he seems to believe she holds. "I have laid witness to every betrayal this realm and all others has had to offer. Fought a war of Old Gods, twice now. Clawed my way out from the inferno, a cage my own father and siblings decreed, only to sit upon a throne revered by demonic forces this world has never seen. You want to talk to me about love and loyalty?" The sound that slips through curling lips is defiant, a haphazard brush-off, his bitterness little more than a childlike tantrum in her eyes. "This world doesn't need to be mine to take." Of course, not all plans would always play out in the way desired, but the archfiend was nothing if not resourceful. "Do you not understand yet, dear pluto? I am violence and that is the only promised thing in this temporary existence you cling to. Your bitterness would be better suited to a toddler." Her laugh is ethereal, tainted with the determination that this set-back would fuel her with. "Suffer the heartbreak, if it were me, you betrayed, your penance would have been far worse. Perhaps Kore's leniancy," if it could truly be called that, "will give you back your bite."

closed starter for @fxllenpythia location: Colosseum

He'd been broken apart by his love, shaped into what felt like an entirely different person. Rome had changed, so did the people within. But even if they did Pluto could be sure of one thing: the Pythia. An everlasting menace, a crownless emperor without their little book. As he stood next to them, the respect he'd harbored for the sovereign had vanished into thin air. Exhausted yet triumphant, he'd somewhat prevailed even though he'd lost Ezekiel and a huge chunk of himself next to the support of so many. A man of eternal solitude, he looked to the other sovereign with both pity and curiosity. "This world isn't yours to take. We're all temporary. Loyalty and love are temporary." He had his hands folded behind his back, his stance somewhat relaxed, "be lucky most don't remember what happened. We'd do better without these memories as well."

One of the flaws of all mortals was their impending ability to lose sight far too quickly. So adept to instant gratification that the eons Python had spent piecing together each path of intentional destruction was so quick to doubt in their minds. Their wishy-washy desires formed of self preservation, rather than the desire to claw for everything they had. One did not seek out the powers of infernal darkness without getting burned in the process. The disappointment was wrought, but that was nothing new. The book was gone, and yet, that didn't dampen Leviathan's spirits. All she had to do was reassess. "Don't I always?" The maniacal leer to her tone is unforgiving. However bad it may have seemed - there are far worse fates to suffer, and the archfiend intends to see it through to the end, over and over again if they must. "Whatever it is they suffered you, Bastien, their forces do nothing but pre-empt their own by constantly fighting it. Regardless, we'll see it through. The books destruction is nothing if not history repeating itself - they're fools to think this would squander our intentions."

where. wherever this hoe be hiding who. @fxllenpythia

The Necronomicon had been destroyed. After thousands of years, he could feel its loss so keenly. As if a piece of himself was gone, lost forever. Which is why he could understand how Pythia may be feeling in the moment. After all their plans had been ripped from their hands, shredded before their very eyes. Bastien had been imprisoned for his connection to the Asphodel, had not questioned his loyalty for even a moment as his mind fractured within his cell. So now, he felt as if he did not know what to do. Did not know what direction to point himself in. "Do tell me you have a plan already forming."

LANFEAR | The Wheel of Time - 2.06

A sentiment they'd shared for centuries, undoubtedly. Disappointment was not something he ever offered to her and regardless of where the coming days would lead them - Leviathan would never doubt his desire for survival and all that came with it. "Good, when we're successful, we'll bathe in rivers of blood and all those who banished you will suffer their regret, my love." Already, battle regalia sick with crimson, thousands more would bleed and though the taste of it lingered upon her tongue, it was far sweeter when mottled with the taste of him in the kiss she steals, "It'll all be ours, soon enough."

Arakhor's fingers slide along Leviathan's jaw, this form that they'd chosen a worthy one for the time being. He grinned slightly, autumn magic swirling around them, fueled by blood magic and the noble elven blood that used to run through him. Eladrin needed the boost that this dark magic gave them, and as long as he and his brother survived, then all was well. "Of course. There's nothing that I would rather be doing," he grinned, thinking of all the seraphim that would meet death at their hands. If only there were more within Rome, it would've been a worthy cause. Titania had children here that needed to be killed, one a sorry human and one a spawn from a fiend.

"You doubt me too much, Levent." An inevitable venture of those who had yet to take full advantage of the book holding tightly to their souls. Lucretia, August - even Bastien, and a greater number of them the world over, had taken what was owed for the price of their soul. While others lingered in wait - as if time itself would merely offer gratuitous earnings and she's quickly reminded of the audacity of mortals. "Do you think I haven't considered every outcome? Every possible path that could break? You doubt these so-called, fail-safes, yet not once have you asked the correct questions. You have little fail-safes in place, I have thought of them all."

Levent had weaved his songs of blood and nightmares all around them. It was for their own good, they'd said. Pythia had brought him away from the light so many centuries ago, that now it seemed irrelevant. Part of him wished he had been cut off completely; a drow, easier raised than watching the plans of his own design come forth. "No one is saying I'm tapping out," he couldn't lie, anyway, but his frustrations were always too clear. He thought the resting bitch face would help. Arys, his original name, the one he hid away, felt like weight upon his tongue. His clairvoyance, however, filled him with impending dread. "We have little fail-safes in place, Pythia."

The weaknesses of humans would never seek to surprise her. Connection this, connection that. Tying themselves to others with such infinity that they truly believed such feelings could never be severed. It's enough to keep her from rolling her eyes. "Yes, yes. I'm sure it was a horrific shock." Though, perhaps Yurena was quick to forget that the Pythia knew all of them - their thoughts, their desires. The aspect had long since known all of her followers, well before they'd sworn themselves to the book. Regardless of what they knew, betrayal was not something the greater demon felt - that would indicate that she had to care about each and every one of them in the first place. It was a stretch, at best. She held interest in the fickle desires they held, in what they could do to serve her own purpose - not all of them would live up to such visceral longings. "Do not dwell within them too long. Clinging to them is a rather useless venture you lot hold onto for abysmal reasons," and undoubtedly, Yurena was already gone. "We," I, "Do not have time - we're almost there."

"We both know my connection with Alstroemeria," Yurena reminds them with a long sigh, the truth coming out reluctantly before a being she is very well aware that is more than ready and willing to destroy her if she does not give her an answer to her satisfaction. It is like walking on a tightrope, a careful balancing before she spills and falls to the darkness she has long welcomed as her own. "Kaan is an old friend of Erik's and his betrayal took me by surprise," beyond that, truly. She has begun to wonder— But it is not the time to dwell on that. "His pain is justified, as such, but I need a moment to disentangle all of my pesky emotions."

It was irreverent glee that carved the saccharine smile upon her features. As selfishly driven as the greater demon may have been, even Pythia understood the feeling of pride when one of her own converts found gain and pleasure upon the covens resolves. "Undoubtedly, there'll be more to come," a glass raised, the blood of her brethren, "I wouldn't worry too much about that. Suffering, we have plenty of, and should all our plans come to fruition, there'll be no end to it for those like Octavian."

"Hell yeah, I'll cheers to that." And she really had nobody to thank but the Pythia for helping her with this. Lucretia had felt lost for a very long time before the aspect had spoken into her ear of the necronomicon. Power was something she had always been desperate to have. And now here she was wielding it with no real drawbacks. Hell, she'd been able to steal power from Octavian, too. It sure didn't get better than seeing him just a vulnerable man. "That would be nice, but I'd love to see him suffer here just a bit more. Male suffering gives me energy coffee could only dream of giving to me."

"Keep looking," as if he could be distracted by any amount at a time like this. Regardless of what came their way, Pythia would push forward. The battle ahead was truly the equivalent of a sidequest in the grand scheme of things. An offering to her devout. To take what they willed - relinquish what no longer served them all before they could look upon the gates of hell itself. What mattered, was the ritual taking place below them. Drawing the seals that kept her fallen brethren from bringing the world to it's knees with them. "Do not forget to inform me of the Drow. We wouldn't want to let our friends down in the coming days." It was an alliance that Python placed weight in for the time being, every olive branch could become a tangled of thorns without the proper attention. A brow rises to a manicured point and she huffs a breath of laughter, "Keep your secrets then," as much as he could; the greater demon would always see the truth within her most devout just as had whispered to them all over their lives, "I suppose you're going to make me to and ask him myself, hm?"

The visions had come, one after the other of the plans that would give the Asphodel the upper hand. Each new move, each new division that split from the greater body were meant with an assault from the coven. Always one step ahead of them, Bastien could pluck it from the three sisters just as the plan was formed. As if the witch were in the very depths of the Senate's minds. As if he knew their next moves even before they themselves did. "Their numbers are dwindling," he mused, head canted to the side as he peered into the darkness. "They'll continue to advance, hope to reach us before they are wiped away," but his lips curled into a smile, deadly just as he was. That is, until Pythia pressed upon what he himself was still so unsure of. "Levent?" He spoke the name as if it were unfamiliar to him, his eyes opened to peer over at her now. "If I were aware of anything besides his jealousy of my ability to bleach and tone, I would have a fair amount to share." It wasn't necessarily a lie, for Bastien had yet to uncover precisely what frustrations Levent had meant.

The laughter that split Pythia's features was maniacal, at best. This creature before her lording his loyalty to some overwhelming standard as if she'd asked for it in the first place. "Dearest Pluto," she chided, as a mother over a petulant child, 'this has everything to do with your beloved." Tiamat - Kore. The dread Persephone, the one who pieced together the beginning of the end. "And if you truly understood all that she desires, loyalty wouldn't be part of the equation. Her will would be yours." This would be what he sought too. "You may have helped pull me from the inferno, helped pieced together the foundation of the asphodel and hold her close, but I do not need your loyalty - because I have hers."

closed starter for @fxllenpythia location: Necromanteion (pre-battle)

For once he was alone with Pythia, no guard, no other witness to their discussions. While he'd known the infamous Pythia for some time now, their relationship was superficial at best, with both of them loyal to Kore. So, while he didn't trust her practices and her personally, he was forced to play nice. Attacking the other leader was impossible, with Kore being a part of him so much had changed and he knew he had to make sure the Pythia knew just how much power resided within him. "Kore," he simply stated, his posture relaxed, almost too relaxed before a war like this. "This has nothing to do with either of us and I'll not swear my loyalty to you."

"And what exactly would I need your gratitude for?" She spat, teeth bared as Pythia took in the form of the pathetic excuse for a man. The wounded animal, snarling as she came too close as if he'd ever come close to being the prey in this scenario, or any beforehand. Octavian, regardless of his obsessive desire and need for the book, was a fickle being. One that she neither needed, not sought to forget. Tsking lightly as he attempts to move, the sight shift of her fingertips brings about vines, sprawling from the depths of the Necronomanteion to the very tower they exist upon in that moment. "When will you people get it? I don't wish to leash anyone at all," not entirely true - there were certainly more than a handful of creatures she'd see chained by the end of this, "I have given your daughter everything that you never could. I've given them all that nobody else ever could. I don't wish to condemn them to an existence controlled by a bunch of egg-head Neanderthals who believe they know what's best for this.. thing you all consider to be a society." A hand waves in a haphazard gesture to the world beyond and the vines snap around Octavian's wrists, thorns sinking into his flesh, "You held so much promise."

who?: @fxllenpythia where?: he's still on the ground

❂🐦❂

He noticed almost immediately how difficult things were now that he was a man once again. Without his power, the whispers could rise to screams in his mind, still urging him to go find that book. It was so close, yet Octavian was too weak to do much of anything but lie there. He was disconnected from everything but his past, so at the very least the buteo's instincts ingrained into his being kept him alert despite his condition. Still, Octavian realized something as he bled out onto the floor of the Necromanteion: if he could still feel the Necronomicon beckoning him then it really had imprinted on his soul. "If you're wanting to try and make me feel gratitude towards you again, don't. I've forgotten how banal anger can feel without the fire to back it up." Octavian winces as he attempts to sit up but remains on the ground, clutching his abdomen. "Actually, I'm surprised you've found time for me at all. Aren't you supposed to be too busy walking my daughter on a leash?"

Flame, licked at every crevice of the prison. Taunting in nature, it would burn none, other than those that tried to escape. A foolish venture that very few attempted to stomach. Despite it, a chill swept across the floor of stone and bones of those long dead. Disappointment was something Pythia had known since the war of the Old Gods had ended. It ran rampant among all those she knew, a flaw that couldn't be stripped of any who carried it within the breadth of their spineless forms. When it first begun to show in one of her most loyal - a man present when the asphodel first formed and invocated Pythia from the inferno in the first, she was surprised that he'd fall so far. "Of all the fools to walk into hell," she laughed, a lowly sound that sounded within the rumble of the Necronomanteion as if the kingdom itself breathed with her. "I have never known someone so stupid, Kaan Narcissus. How does it feel, to know you've led your entire coven into the arms of certain death?"

where. blood prison who. @fxllenpythia

Raffaele and Jianyu were gone. Or rather, within a realm that he could not get to. That he could not save them from. For his betrayal, for his want to destroy Pythia and the Necronomicon, they now suffered a fate worse than death. If they could not be returned to him, if they could not be saved, then there was nothing left for him in this world. And that he would use to ruin Pythia, in any way that he possibly could. He would not give up, not yet, even if his magic no longer flowed through his being. He would find another way to rip the demon apart, even if he had to use his bare hands. "Come to gloat then?" He questioned idly, as if the want to destroy his once sovereign did not burn so hotly within him.

In the end, nothing mattered to her beyond freeing their brethren from the inferno. Lives lost, of the Asphodel or the Senatre forces would all suit her end goal one way or another, the closer they drew to the apex of everything Leviathan would bring to fruition. The world burned, and soon, the gates would open. The disappointment of those within her ranks who sought the moniker of traitor and deserter left a sliver of hurt resting upon her chest that she'd sooner deal with than linger within. While so many damned her to the inferno all over again for all that suffered under her influence, Pythia was only ever guilty of giving people what they wanted. Untold power, influence - the key to immortality. The price to pay was hefty, and those unable to swallow such a blade were better suited as fodder. A weakness that the coven would never tolerate.

Enfenim's presence doesn't shock her; he has always been mischievous. Nosy, and rather impartial to the thought that his brother's place at her side offered him some leniency. Despite the fact that his soul didn't belong to her, he was one among them all the same. Leviathan didn't need to tether the brothers Elandrin to her. As long as the greater demon sought chaos and death, they'd be there. As if the fiery glow of Necromanteion and the stench of death that bled from the battlefield beyond wasn't proof enough. Words spoken against her ear quiver deeply within the corner of a devilish smirk and hues of obsidian glance up at him as he finds a place by her side, "It feels as though it's about time," it seethes through her teeth, in the same way, hot water soothes aching bones, "No matter what they do, they will always lose." People, stability - alliance. It would all disappear within the ash of all that she'd burn around them. "Does this satisfy some semblance of your own desires? The fairy king is tainted, lied to and become new again. It seems as though Ayi'ig did not know all, before that slaughter."

@fxllenpythia location: Necromanteion notes: he said: you're looking even hotter than usual

The destruction was admirable, truly it was. In a matter of time the Allied Senate Forces would breach the walls and begin to pour into the City, that’s when things would truly get interesting. Fighting from the walls had its perks, but after nine days it was stale, Enfenim generally preferred to manipulate from behind the scenes, contrary to Arakhor who was all merciless killing all the time. He’d projected a portion of his consciousness into the mortal realm and watched how so many of his people had started to fall, their pathetic desperation was going to get them all killed. A waste, a hateful waste, if nothing else the exile preferred to be at their side: killing drow and making sure that the fey of significance lived and the fey that were insignificant… Well, died for something at least. 

An empowered greater demon had no option but to be radiant, malevolence and power rolled off of the fallen angel that Enfenim had always known as Leviathan. The liar with many names and faces, the serpent that could find her way through any defence, any plot. Enfenim found Leviathan in her chambers, overlooking the city, his cold hands brushed against her shoulders as he approached from behind. Beautiful and indomitable, winning was her most attractive quality. “How does it feel to be on the cusp of getting everything you ever wanted?” Enfenim asked against her ear before he moved to stand at her side. Loyal to himself first and Arakhor second, he had his own reasons for standing among the Asphodel. All this death was just a plus.

Lanfear | The Wheel of Time 2x07

It always had been. Perhaps before either had even known it. Leviathan didn't love, it simply wasn't of her nature - but she could remain devout in loyalty. Arakhor would remain the closest they'd come to an infinite connection; and that meant that one day she would see to it that all he sought to destroy would be done just as surely as all that the asphodel and her brothers within the inferno would want. "Far too long," she breathes out with something of a manic bloom of laughter, "We shall see it done, later. For now," fingers flex, and the seraph blade that extends as a piece of every vessel, "Ride out with me."

The Autumn fey leaned against the wall, watching the Pythia for a few moments. There were so many trapped, now, so many that would serve their cause better caged and bled. It was the start of a great plan, but Arakhor would never be one to let down his guard. The Pythia would need him, anyway, so it's why they now had room for themselves. Anyone who intruded would find themselves flayed, anyhow. "No, my place is here. With you. It's been centuries since we've had a good run like this, you know."

Only one with precision could envision the gorish nightmares that Bastien forced upon them. Each stringent tether weaves it's way across the battlefield and into the minds of fools that might believe rest would give them an upper hand in strategy, and Leviathan feeds more power through all that connects her to the oracle. "What will they do next?" She doesn't mean to stop him in his tracks, rather two birds with one rather large stone, "Their attempts have been feeble. I don't distrust that they might not have a trick up their sleeve." Elusive as the Asphodel might be, she wasn't foolish to believe that the wretches of this earth and the next couldn't attempt to reciprocate it. "And while you're at it, do tell me what is going on with out dear Levent."

Break them, there was no further encouragement that Bastien would need. He had directed his magic towards his visions, had pulled the sights straight from the hands of the Graeae so that they may lay waste to the city. "With pleasure," came his giddy reply, before he turned his sights upon those that would fall pray. A vision was conjured, brought forth of the decimation that awaited the city of Rome. And into the minds of those that stood against the Asphodel it went. Destruction, bloodshed, torn bodies that scattered the once idyllic streets. He pressed upon them, further and further, until all they could see, think, believe was their approaching demise. It was the eruption of screams that brought the satisfied grin to his lips, that had his eyes closing with a hum at a job well done. "And that was simply a taste."