"All I'm saying -" Between bites, because priorities, even if Zerxus is having a crisis. "-is that the nearest things to gods didn't impress you much when compared to omnipotent ruler of hell."
Which makes him the most powerful option and most likely to be able to achieve that, if it wasn't a pure accident. "I'm not gonna make guesses as to motive. I'm nothing special, but I think you'll be able to put a guess or two together for yourself when you stop looking like I hit you over the head with a frying pan."
You remind me of my husband. I asked him to keep you safe, and this was the price. I asked him to make it a little more hospitable for you .
The answer doesn't come immediately. He finishes his food, walks the dish to the sink, and takes another deep breath.
Then he steps forward, directly between the table and the door, and growls, "Asmodeus, get the fuck in here."
It's the most disrespectful he's dared to be out loud in a very long time, and the first consequence comes quick. Fire edged like as sword bursts from his back, as if he's just been impaled through the heart.
His knees buckle, and he's still knelt on the floor when the door creaks open.
"There's no need for that." The devil's voice is soft, and it suits him; he has delicate features, framed by flowing black hair. He carries no weapon, and wears no armour.
On his knees, gasping and bloody, Zerxus mutters, "Like hell there isn't."
Steve stands up so fast in response to the 'consequence' - yeah, sure, that's one word for it - that he knocks the chair over and literally flips the table, winding up pretty effectively beside Zerxus.
And the sink.
His reflex is absolutely, 100%, to grab and fling the pan closest to his hand, straight at whatever was coming through the door, before he even registered who or what.
"Hey!"
Whether that's at Zerxus to get him to shut up, outrage at Zerxus' condition, or just pure adrenaline....
If Steve met This Guy on the street, he would immediately dislike him for the nature of that smile.
"Yeah, you're fine. Just a little make-up routine for the aesthetic." He is... cranky as hell right now. "Stop being a fucking idiot before Fire, Brimstone, and Sadism over there remembers he can use me as leverage."
What? Is he leveraging himself weird? Maybe, but shut up.
Also Steve really needs to not be dismissing the actual devil right now, but he sure as shit is not Steve's priority.
"Maybe not, but you can't remember not to ask questions, so consider the reminder directed at you."
Honestly, though, if he's right? Okay. Wrong? Still okay. This wasn't news to him.
He does, however, help Zerxus up, or at least puts a hand around his arm and braces, since the idiot seems to be determined to get up.
"Did you call him in here for a reason?"
He... is still just talking around Asmodeus. For... reasons like 'not losing his temper' and 'fuck that guy'. ...and also intimidation and not even beginning to know how.
Edited (just putting a lost space in) 2024-11-17 04:23 (UTC)
He does let himself lean on Steve until he's fully upright. After that, he's - not quite steady, but stubborn enough to make up for it. The gaping wound in his chest hasn't closed but it's harder to see through, at least.
"Oh, honestly - " With a wave of his hand, Asmodeus conjures a small but plush armchair right behind Zerxus, butting into the back of his knees and forcing him to collapse down into it with a pained, deeply indignant huff.
He's still looking directly at Steve, red eyes glittering with playful curiosity. "He's horribly careless with himself, I'm afraid."
He is absolutely not going to be examining evidence that Zerxus had a sword through him within the past few minutes too closely.
Or be disturbed by the injury or that Zerxus is conscious and talking with that injury.
He is noting that at least that injury is healing.
Mostly, Asmodeus is now being direct enough that Steve feels challenged. "Yeah, I know the type. Seems to go hand in hand with a refusal to be intimidated into being well behaved and follow rules."
Steve gives Asmodeus the flattest, least impressed look ever.
Is he going to verbalize a single, solitary one of his suspicions? No. One, all he has is suspicion. Two, it would.... Goddammit, he thinks his priorities in this might be aligned with what amounts to an alternate reality's satan.
And if that's not fucking frustrating and alarming, nothing is.
"I think you're better at making statements that serve as questions without being questions than Zerxus is. I also think I'm not stupid enough to volunteer answers."
Unlike theories about how he's here and why, Steve doesn't have a clue what that grin is about (though it's sure worth noticing and worrying about), much less what they're supposedly discussing.
He'd ask, but well.
Instead his eyebrows twitch just faintly at the floating chair. Then he sits in it.
"Sure. Discuss." Civilized not so much given the way this started, hell, and this asshole but ok.
The moment Steve sits down, the chair ripples beneath him to match the armchair Zerxus is in. It's obnoxiously comfortable.
Asmodeus doesn't exactly sit; one moment he's standing, and the next he's lounging back in something reminiscent of a throne, but not quite ostentatious enough that it looks entirely out of place.
Zerxus rolls his eyes, but he straightens in his chair; the more they talk the faster his wound heals, which is - well, he'll file that away to think about later. "If you brought him here, I'd like to know why."
He doesn't expect honesty, but that doesn't mean he won't hear anything useful.
Asmodeus tilts his head, eyebrows arching slightly. "That's the question, isn't it." With a wry gesture towards Steve, "Don't mistake me, you're very entertaining but I do have a kingdom to run."
Steve makes a face so patently irritated at the chair changing under him that it would almost be funny - if it stuck around longer.
It is quickly replaced by him rolling his eyes at the almost throne and, admittedly, very attractive lounge and even that is gone second he hears that 'question' - which good job in not making it an actual question.
Because he's busy giving Zerxus a patently 'are you fucking kidding me' type look again.
"I'm two thirds naked. He made your clothes disappear while I was in bed with you, he's setting up domestic scenarios like first aid and cooking, and I remind you of your husband and you're already asking for things on my behalf." He's leaving out anything to do with, you know, mental health. Because he does not want Zerxus to dig in and get contrary on that point. "I'm waiting for a stripper pole, glitter, and an industrial sized vat of lube to appear."
He's lived for a very long time in, let's be honest, the worst possible place. Not much fazes him anymore.
That has him whipping his head around and almost choking on, "What."
Asmodeus, meanwhile, looks tremendously amused. With a click of his tongue and a sharp-edged lilt to his voice, "He thinks very highly of himself, doesn't he."
For once, Zerxus barely even hears him. "That doesn't - a distraction is one thing, why would he care if I - and I wouldn't, the only man I've touched in a hundred years is hi - "
"All right, that's quite enough of that." With a snap of his fingers, Asmodeus cuts off Zerxus's speech entirely. It doesn't look painful, at least, more like he's been muted. He actually keeps going, for a second, before his mouth snaps shut and he glares daggers at his god.
He... lifts his eyebrows at Zerxus before he's abruptly cut off, looking briefly and mildly apologetic.
Then back to pretty boy satan. "Am I supposed to keep talking, or is it your turn now? I'm done again."
He... isn't particularly bothered. Actually he is. In a specific, still annoyed as all get out, mouthing off way that at least has him not being particularly intimidated. That Zerxus just got cut off that abruptly and effectively says something, and a lot of it, though what exactly Steve isn't sure.
Does he think that highly of himself? Currently, he just might, if only because he's that pissed off, in a pretty shallow way that almost always leads to him mouthing off in some capacity.
"Oh, are you?" The way Asmodeus grins - it isn't unsettling because it's dark or vicious. It's broad and sly and warm, so believably friendly.
"If I'm honest, Captain - " He pauses for a moment, and then rolls his eyes in a way that mirrors Zerxus almost exactly, when he's hearing something irritating in his head. "Fine. Yes, trickery is one of my domains; no, I'm under no binding agreement to be truthful with either of you."
With a sweeping gesture, "All that said, I hardly have a reason to lie. The Hells are mine, and I'm the one in control here." He doesn't state it like a threat, simply a matter of basic fact. Then, after a fleeting grimace, "Almost. If you'll humour me for a moment, imagine how I'd feel about my kingdom being breached."
"I'm going to assume you asking rhetorical questions gets a free pass and that this is leading somewhere. I'm listening." Not speculating though, at least aloud. Because what he'd imagine doesn't involve him still being alive, and that doesn't quite fit.
On the other hand, there is definitely an actual personality in play, and that's making it hard to stay very clear on much. Or at least solidly clear and stubborn determined.
Never mind how he doesn't know anything in any real way about this hell, never mind anything outside it. Pretty much anything he's told will be somewhat believable, but will also be something he mistrusts.
Great. He can gaslight himself.
Edited (Fixing grammer since I'm here; ignore) 2024-11-19 14:42 (UTC)
Zerxus would really, really like it if he could help with that but he's reduced to glaring impotently.
"It's...unsettling, knowing that we're vulnerable in a way I never suspected. I could kill you, of course, but that would do nothing to address the root of the problem."
With a smaller, wryly affectionate gesture towards his muted champion, "He's more insightful than one might think, considering. Leaving him to his own devices - for the most part - has already given me crucial information."
There's something almost protective, in the way his gaze lingers on Zerxus after that. "You aren't wrong, that you're quite a lot like his husband. But I'm not the only god who would know that."
"Killing me wouldn't accomplish anything for you." For Steve it's one of the most effective and likely ways out of hell, thanks. "I'd assume the knowledge that a hole can be blown through realities at least effectively enough to shove one guy through would be at least as interesting as it is unsettling."
He can and is gaslighting himself about a lot, but somehow Asmodeus doesn't strike him as someone who is a tactical idiot. There is active potential there, and he wouldn't be pointing that out if he thought it was new information.
The rest of that is actually harder to grapple with, actually. Like disturbingly, uncomfortably, kind of infuriatingly a lot. Yes, he's sure leaving them alone has led to insight and information - part of why he's held quite a bit back about potential options from Zerxus - but the connotations just... fit. And are alarming. And kind of paranoia inducing, in ways that are probably necessary but Steve hates with every fiber of his being.
"Well, yes, that's the important thing." A truly infuriating thing to say, except there's a trace of humour lightening the words and sparkling in his eyes. "I would like to point out, however, that you can't be certain where exactly your soul will end up. This is all very unprecedented."
For the first time, Zerxus gestures towards Asmodeus in gratitude, mouthing without expecting to be heard.
" -aht I've been saying - " He blinks, grimaces, and clears his throat before focusing on Steve again. "He's right. Death could lead you right back here, or into the astral sea, or one of the other god's afterlives."
The wound has fully healed, now, leaving only much older scars behind.
At least that one healed at a closer to normal rate, which is more relieving than Steve would like to admit.
A little annoyed that Zerxus can talk again. Not that he likes the demonstration of level of control Asmodeus has over his 'husband' or champion or whatever, but it was kind of convenient to not be double teamed.
"All I'm saying is that I know where I am now and it's hell." And as far as he's concerned it's the worst case scenario, so.
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Which makes him the most powerful option and most likely to be able to achieve that, if it wasn't a pure accident. "I'm not gonna make guesses as to motive. I'm nothing special, but I think you'll be able to put a guess or two together for yourself when you stop looking like I hit you over the head with a frying pan."
You remind me of my husband.
I asked him to keep you safe, and this was the price.
I asked him to make it a little more hospitable for you .
...disappearing clothes.
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Which does mean, logistically, that working with him instead of against him is the likeliest option.
Zerxus...takes a deep breath, and then keeps eating, because he needs something to ground him for a bit.
Only once he's almost finished does he say, slow and quiet, "You think he brought you here - for me?"
Mostly, he still sounds stunned and uncertain, but there's a growing edge to his voice.
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Stop with the goddamn questions, says the flat look at the end there.
Also, he really hadn't meant any of this to be that much of a revelation. Benefits of an outside perspective, he guesses.
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The answer doesn't come immediately. He finishes his food, walks the dish to the sink, and takes another deep breath.
Then he steps forward, directly between the table and the door, and growls, "Asmodeus, get the fuck in here."
It's the most disrespectful he's dared to be out loud in a very long time, and the first consequence comes quick. Fire edged like as sword bursts from his back, as if he's just been impaled through the heart.
His knees buckle, and he's still knelt on the floor when the door creaks open.
"There's no need for that." The devil's voice is soft, and it suits him; he has delicate features, framed by flowing black hair. He carries no weapon, and wears no armour.
On his knees, gasping and bloody, Zerxus mutters, "Like hell there isn't."
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And the sink.
His reflex is absolutely, 100%, to grab and fling the pan closest to his hand, straight at whatever was coming through the door, before he even registered who or what.
"Hey!"
Whether that's at Zerxus to get him to shut up, outrage at Zerxus' condition, or just pure adrenaline....
It's all of them.
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Meanwhile, Zerxus looks up at him with immeasurable fondness, though the effect is dampened slightly by the blood staining his lips.
"I'm all right." A patently absurd thing to say, but he is already healing.
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"Yeah, you're fine. Just a little make-up routine for the aesthetic." He is... cranky as hell right now. "Stop being a fucking idiot before Fire, Brimstone, and Sadism over there remembers he can use me as leverage."
What? Is he leveraging himself weird? Maybe, but shut up.
Also Steve really needs to not be dismissing the actual devil right now, but he sure as shit is not Steve's priority.
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Zerxus pauses in the midst of pushing himself up to glare upwards. "Cute."
Then, with a sharper glance at Steve, "He never forgets. ...Especially if you're right about why you're here."
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Honestly, though, if he's right? Okay. Wrong? Still okay. This wasn't news to him.
He does, however, help Zerxus up, or at least puts a hand around his arm and braces, since the idiot seems to be determined to get up.
"Did you call him in here for a reason?"
He... is still just talking around Asmodeus. For... reasons like 'not losing his temper' and 'fuck that guy'. ...and also intimidation and not even beginning to know how.
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He does let himself lean on Steve until he's fully upright. After that, he's - not quite steady, but stubborn enough to make up for it. The gaping wound in his chest hasn't closed but it's harder to see through, at least.
"Oh, honestly - " With a wave of his hand, Asmodeus conjures a small but plush armchair right behind Zerxus, butting into the back of his knees and forcing him to collapse down into it with a pained, deeply indignant huff.
He's still looking directly at Steve, red eyes glittering with playful curiosity. "He's horribly careless with himself, I'm afraid."
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Or be disturbed by the injury or that Zerxus is conscious and talking with that injury.
He is noting that at least that injury is healing.
Mostly, Asmodeus is now being direct enough that Steve feels challenged. "Yeah, I know the type. Seems to go hand in hand with a refusal to be intimidated into being well behaved and follow rules."
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Annoyingly, Zerxus does feel better without needing to support his own weight, so his voice is stronger when he says, "And that's why I called him."
His glare is unconvinced, but it's clear he hasn't yet made up his mind on what's really going on.
"Let's talk."
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Is he going to verbalize a single, solitary one of his suspicions? No. One, all he has is suspicion. Two, it would.... Goddammit, he thinks his priorities in this might be aligned with what amounts to an alternate reality's satan.
And if that's not fucking frustrating and alarming, nothing is.
"I think you're better at making statements that serve as questions without being questions than Zerxus is. I also think I'm not stupid enough to volunteer answers."
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"Well. He's young, yet."
Another gesture and Steve's chair rights itself, drifting over and landing behind him. "You may as well sit, if we're having a civilised discussion."
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He'd ask, but well.
Instead his eyebrows twitch just faintly at the floating chair. Then he sits in it.
"Sure. Discuss." Civilized not so much given the way this started, hell, and this asshole but ok.
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Asmodeus doesn't exactly sit; one moment he's standing, and the next he's lounging back in something reminiscent of a throne, but not quite ostentatious enough that it looks entirely out of place.
Zerxus rolls his eyes, but he straightens in his chair; the more they talk the faster his wound heals, which is - well, he'll file that away to think about later. "If you brought him here, I'd like to know why."
He doesn't expect honesty, but that doesn't mean he won't hear anything useful.
Asmodeus tilts his head, eyebrows arching slightly. "That's the question, isn't it." With a wry gesture towards Steve, "Don't mistake me, you're very entertaining but I do have a kingdom to run."
He's trying to make it sound absurd.
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It is quickly replaced by him rolling his eyes at the almost throne and, admittedly, very attractive lounge and even that is gone second he hears that 'question' - which good job in not making it an actual question.
Because he's busy giving Zerxus a patently 'are you fucking kidding me' type look again.
"I'm two thirds naked. He made your clothes disappear while I was in bed with you, he's setting up domestic scenarios like first aid and cooking, and I remind you of your husband and you're already asking for things on my behalf." He's leaving out anything to do with, you know, mental health. Because he does not want Zerxus to dig in and get contrary on that point. "I'm waiting for a stripper pole, glitter, and an industrial sized vat of lube to appear."
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That has him whipping his head around and almost choking on, "What."
Asmodeus, meanwhile, looks tremendously amused. With a click of his tongue and a sharp-edged lilt to his voice, "He thinks very highly of himself, doesn't he."
For once, Zerxus barely even hears him. "That doesn't - a distraction is one thing, why would he care if I - and I wouldn't, the only man I've touched in a hundred years is hi - "
"All right, that's quite enough of that." With a snap of his fingers, Asmodeus cuts off Zerxus's speech entirely. It doesn't look painful, at least, more like he's been muted. He actually keeps going, for a second, before his mouth snaps shut and he glares daggers at his god.
"What? You're just rambling now."
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Then back to pretty boy satan. "Am I supposed to keep talking, or is it your turn now? I'm done again."
He... isn't particularly bothered. Actually he is. In a specific, still annoyed as all get out, mouthing off way that at least has him not being particularly intimidated. That Zerxus just got cut off that abruptly and effectively says something, and a lot of it, though what exactly Steve isn't sure.
Does he think that highly of himself? Currently, he just might, if only because he's that pissed off, in a pretty shallow way that almost always leads to him mouthing off in some capacity.
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"If I'm honest, Captain - " He pauses for a moment, and then rolls his eyes in a way that mirrors Zerxus almost exactly, when he's hearing something irritating in his head. "Fine. Yes, trickery is one of my domains; no, I'm under no binding agreement to be truthful with either of you."
With a sweeping gesture, "All that said, I hardly have a reason to lie. The Hells are mine, and I'm the one in control here." He doesn't state it like a threat, simply a matter of basic fact. Then, after a fleeting grimace, "Almost. If you'll humour me for a moment, imagine how I'd feel about my kingdom being breached."
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On the other hand, there is definitely an actual personality in play, and that's making it hard to stay very clear on much. Or at least solidly clear and stubborn determined.
Never mind how he doesn't know anything in any real way about this hell, never mind anything outside it. Pretty much anything he's told will be somewhat believable, but will also be something he mistrusts.
Great. He can gaslight himself.
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"It's...unsettling, knowing that we're vulnerable in a way I never suspected. I could kill you, of course, but that would do nothing to address the root of the problem."
With a smaller, wryly affectionate gesture towards his muted champion, "He's more insightful than one might think, considering. Leaving him to his own devices - for the most part - has already given me crucial information."
There's something almost protective, in the way his gaze lingers on Zerxus after that. "You aren't wrong, that you're quite a lot like his husband. But I'm not the only god who would know that."
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He can and is gaslighting himself about a lot, but somehow Asmodeus doesn't strike him as someone who is a tactical idiot. There is active potential there, and he wouldn't be pointing that out if he thought it was new information.
The rest of that is actually harder to grapple with, actually. Like disturbingly, uncomfortably, kind of infuriatingly a lot. Yes, he's sure leaving them alone has led to insight and information - part of why he's held quite a bit back about potential options from Zerxus - but the connotations just... fit. And are alarming. And kind of paranoia inducing, in ways that are probably necessary but Steve hates with every fiber of his being.
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For the first time, Zerxus gestures towards Asmodeus in gratitude, mouthing without expecting to be heard.
" -aht I've been saying - " He blinks, grimaces, and clears his throat before focusing on Steve again. "He's right. Death could lead you right back here, or into the astral sea, or one of the other god's afterlives."
The wound has fully healed, now, leaving only much older scars behind.
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A little annoyed that Zerxus can talk again. Not that he likes the demonstration of level of control Asmodeus has over his 'husband' or champion or whatever, but it was kind of convenient to not be double teamed.
"All I'm saying is that I know where I am now and it's hell." And as far as he's concerned it's the worst case scenario, so.
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