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.
Zerxus...actually, visibly, defers to Asmodeus on this one, who's clearly happy to argue the
With a delicate arch of his eyebrows, "Would you prefer the Abyss, just as cruel without any Order to contain it? Pandemonium, perhaps, which drives even divine souls to madness?"
Something changes, in his expression, dark and simmering, and Zerxus only just clocks it before he says, "Then there are the elemental planes; perhaps you would spend eternity in the Frostfell."
To his credit, Steve looks less disturbed by 'eternity in someplace with frost in the name'. He understands the reference and implicit threats, understands what Asmodeus knowing to use that against him means (that one's not any kind of surprise and was already assumed), but simply looks... almost insulted.
"First of all, I don't need saved, much less from myself." That one's to Zerxus. "If I wanted out enough for 'dead' to be my first option I'd already be dead. If he wanted me spending the rest of eternity frozen, he'd have already done it." He only thinks he could probably make that happen and isn't interested in testing it. "Secondly, that was him upsetting you, so your reaction would upset me. Strategy isn't your strong suit is it?"
There is a real reaction there, under the insult. He'd absolutely prefer not to go near anything with that kind of cold involved. Ever. How much he'd do to avoid it remains to be seen but that is, in fact, worse than anything involving heat or pain. So. There is that. In fact, it's probably what's fueling the... irritable.
"He's entirely too emotional for that, I'm afraid," says the devil who's been playing on his emotions for a couple hundred years.
Before all that, he would take the criticism in stride and apply it constructively.
Instead, he gets pissed off. "What I want is for you to understand the stakes. Things can always, always get worse." He keeps his gaze on Steve, both more and less intense than it was when his eyes burned like fire, and gestures towards Asmodeus. "You think he's some ultimate evil, but he isn't. There's a god of torture, a god of conquest, a god of slaughter - "
"You're talking about my brothers, Zerxus."
He does glance over this time, distinctly unimpressed. "You've tried to murder all three of them."
"I don't think he's the ultimate evil. I don't think the ultimate evil is an entity." Irrelevant at the moment, at least the second part of that. "I think he has more power over you than he does me. I think what you want is for me to be as scared for myself as you are for me, and that isn't going to happen."
Apparently they're just going to fight over and around Asmodeus. "It can get worse. It can get a lot worse." And clearly so, because this is new information and he hates it, and it even makes his wort case, large - realities wide - scenario much, much worse. Terrifyingly worse. "You're not even thinking about the kinds of worse it can get that extend beyond me. He almost certainly has and is. He sure as shit isn't denying using you trying to protect me as a means of easy control. Stop making stupid deals that turn me into a weapon to be wielded against you."
"Of course he has. I can't do anything about that." There are decades, centuries, of history in the weight of those words. "You, on the other hand - if I get you home have a chance to build a future that makes you happy. A chance to defend your world the way I didn't."
He presses a hand to the scars on his chest, shaking his head. "He doesn't need weapons. He walks around wearing my husband's face. He made me kill children who could have played with my son."
He is resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand, looking on with rapt interest.
Steve wonders, even while looking stricken, if Zerxus even realizes the extent of what he said. That he can't do anything for himself, anymore, but he can do something for Steve. If he has any idea how much power is there, and how long it's been since Zerxus has... resisted or fought back.
That? Is not a question he's going to ask or a fight he is going to continue to have. Not in light of the rest of that, but he's still angry. Hell, he's probably more angry. More tempted to completely remove himself from the equation than he's ever been, if only because at least then there wouldn't be the... win by proxy and projection even theoretically possible.
It wouldn't accomplish anything but a return to what he assumes is 'accepting of defeat'. That isn't better.
All he actually says is, "All right. I'm going to find pants."
Steve is almost - almost - irritated by the surprise. How the fuck would he keep fighting back against 'wears my husbands face and has made me kill children'? What kind of asshole would he have to be to do that?
...Except he knows why that would be an expectation.
"More or less, but I'd rather you help me pick out something you're not gonna miss." He is half an inch from flinging the nearest thing he can find directly into Asmodeus' face and he cannot do that.
He might also literally be stiff standing up out of pure attempt to not.
Oh, he knows that vibe so well. Mostly because he's usually the one radiating it.
Asmodeus does too, of course, and he barely suppresses a chuckle as Zerxus rockets right out of that chair to take Steve's arm - gently, but firmly - to steer him away from temptation as quickly as possible.
"I wouldn't miss any of it, his taste is awful."
"I'll just wait here, then."
Ignoring his god is usually a dangerous proposition, but he...has an inkling that Asmodeus won't halt their progress, painfully or otherwise.
It doesn't matter, really, that they're leaving immediate hearing distance. Steve knows that now. But Zerxus relaxes his grip just the same, once they're fully into the sitting room instead, and lets out a ragged breath.
There is definite tension under Zerxus hand, but Steve doesn't attempt to shake it off. He knows why he's being held onto and will accept that. He might even be as much grateful for the extra layer of restraint, as he is annoyed by it.
There's definitely a look about it, though.
He keeps walking once released, heading toward the wardrobe.
"It's fine." It is not fine, nothing here is fine, but - "You don't need to apologize for him. He is what he is."
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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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With a delicate arch of his eyebrows, "Would you prefer the Abyss, just as cruel without any Order to contain it? Pandemonium, perhaps, which drives even divine souls to madness?"
Something changes, in his expression, dark and simmering, and Zerxus only just clocks it before he says, "Then there are the elemental planes; perhaps you would spend eternity in the Frostfell."
Low and half-growled, "Not necessary."
"Do you want to save him from himself or not?"
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"First of all, I don't need saved, much less from myself." That one's to Zerxus. "If I wanted out enough for 'dead' to be my first option I'd already be dead. If he wanted me spending the rest of eternity frozen, he'd have already done it." He only thinks he could probably make that happen and isn't interested in testing it. "Secondly, that was him upsetting you, so your reaction would upset me. Strategy isn't your strong suit is it?"
There is a real reaction there, under the insult. He'd absolutely prefer not to go near anything with that kind of cold involved. Ever. How much he'd do to avoid it remains to be seen but that is, in fact, worse than anything involving heat or pain. So. There is that. In fact, it's probably what's fueling the... irritable.
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Before all that, he would take the criticism in stride and apply it constructively.
Instead, he gets pissed off. "What I want is for you to understand the stakes. Things can always, always get worse." He keeps his gaze on Steve, both more and less intense than it was when his eyes burned like fire, and gestures towards Asmodeus. "You think he's some ultimate evil, but he isn't. There's a god of torture, a god of conquest, a god of slaughter - "
"You're talking about my brothers, Zerxus."
He does glance over this time, distinctly unimpressed. "You've tried to murder all three of them."
"Only when they deserved it."
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Apparently they're just going to fight over and around Asmodeus. "It can get worse. It can get a lot worse." And clearly so, because this is new information and he hates it, and it even makes his wort case, large - realities wide - scenario much, much worse. Terrifyingly worse. "You're not even thinking about the kinds of worse it can get that extend beyond me. He almost certainly has and is. He sure as shit isn't denying using you trying to protect me as a means of easy control. Stop making stupid deals that turn me into a weapon to be wielded against you."
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"Of course he has. I can't do anything about that." There are decades, centuries, of history in the weight of those words. "You, on the other hand - if I get you home have a chance to build a future that makes you happy. A chance to defend your world the way I didn't."
He presses a hand to the scars on his chest, shaking his head. "He doesn't need weapons. He walks around wearing my husband's face. He made me kill children who could have played with my son."
He is resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand, looking on with rapt interest.
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That? Is not a question he's going to ask or a fight he is going to continue to have. Not in light of the rest of that, but he's still angry. Hell, he's probably more angry. More tempted to completely remove himself from the equation than he's ever been, if only because at least then there wouldn't be the... win by proxy and projection even theoretically possible.
It wouldn't accomplish anything but a return to what he assumes is 'accepting of defeat'. That isn't better.
All he actually says is, "All right. I'm going to find pants."
Acknowledge Asmodeus? Not on his literal life.
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Softly, as if he'd never raised his voice in the first place, "Do you remember where the wardrobe is?"
"He's asking if you'd like him to come with you." Asmodeus hasn't shifted from his affably enthralled perch at all.
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...Except he knows why that would be an expectation.
"More or less, but I'd rather you help me pick out something you're not gonna miss." He is half an inch from flinging the nearest thing he can find directly into Asmodeus' face and he cannot do that.
He might also literally be stiff standing up out of pure attempt to not.
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Asmodeus does too, of course, and he barely suppresses a chuckle as Zerxus rockets right out of that chair to take Steve's arm - gently, but firmly - to steer him away from temptation as quickly as possible.
"I wouldn't miss any of it, his taste is awful."
"I'll just wait here, then."
Ignoring his god is usually a dangerous proposition, but he...has an inkling that Asmodeus won't halt their progress, painfully or otherwise.
It doesn't matter, really, that they're leaving immediate hearing distance. Steve knows that now. But Zerxus relaxes his grip just the same, once they're fully into the sitting room instead, and lets out a ragged breath.
"I'm sorry. That - I know that was - "
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There's definitely a look about it, though.
He keeps walking once released, heading toward the wardrobe.
"It's fine." It is not fine, nothing here is fine, but - "You don't need to apologize for him. He is what he is."
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...It all really is too convenient to be a coincidence, isn't it. How similar they are, and the ways in which they aren't, and -
Later. He'll think about the implications later.
Grimly, not exactly argumentative but steadily stubborn, "He's what he choose to be."
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