- ̗̀ i wanna fly higher

Yrsa Daley-Ward, from bone; “waiting for the check to clear”

"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?"

Where Efigenia once conveyed herself as upholding this lethal stoicism, the Pythia blew her out of such waters. Leviathan was the true leeching of the abyss, not easy to distill, wholly corrupted and vengeful in their path. They were the Advocate's idol, and though she were meant to kneel and swear fealty to another, such statement still held true. Kaan's name was surely a test, barbed wire that scathingly embedded itself within Efigenia, nodding grimly. She'd have respect for Kaan's betrayal to the Pythia, no matter how messy and convoluted her shared loyalties and beliefs were to both ends. "Kaan was an unexpected twist for you, he didn't have all of these variables when he pledged himself to you." Efigenia's head bowed, a twinge of sorrow for her fallen friend and Sovereign, but also a sign of loyalty to the archfiend, "I know what I have, what I've built here, and I don't mind to go against it."

"That could have a lot of definitions coming from you," gloved hands carefully took the box from the elf, carefully stowing away to inspect further later; perhaps she'd reveal it to Severon, he was still pretty stressy-depressy over his autobot ban. Enfenim was talented, unfortunately, but the Advocate would keep the very compliment to herself; she needn't stroke his ego any further than he'd done so himself. "And how are you planning on distributing these? Do you have little messengers?" She'd figure the fey forest, even Lupercal, was an easy place to filter it; the Senate had a strict eye upon the Roman streets, but Enfenim was as crafty and he could be clever and the witch was certain he'd find a way to navigate around their insipid values.

She smiled, something which likely still appeared odd when flashing across her normally steely visage, "Something like that." Efigenia coolly watched as Severon turned over the jewelry within the palm of his hand, a mirror of what she had done every time the dark elf had gifted her something substantial that had also thrummed with magic. A test, a blind venture, something that could heal or kill, and Severon peppered his own twist upon the request; typical of him. It hurt to think of such vow, she had verbally promised the very same with Kaan, but they'd never bound it to magic; perhaps her oldest friend and Sovereign had never figured they'd need magic to sort out such promise. Efigenia blinked away the lethal thought, nodding, "I can intertwine it with the magic already bound within it." A vow made stronger by magic; a mistake she'd not make twice where someone she cared for was concerned.

"So everybody says," many in Rome garnered this survivalist mantra, but Efigenia had seen many frangible and broken mortals pretending they conveyed wretched strengths to rise above it all. In truth, Rome was hungry, it was this voracious stomach that could not be satiated, and she'd seen the city take upon it's victims for less, picking the bones clean. "I was recommended to them by a dear friend of mine; he was married to the Sovereign," the Advocate remained unreadable, though it was a miracle she could speak upon Kaan and Jianyu without her jaw clenching at what had transpired, any evidence of her grief locked away tightly.

Efigenia offered the briefest nod; the Advocate was one who walked the very tightrope of such order, weaved her way around the implicit rules and found a way to conquer above them. A watcher, a pillar of this mortal realm, but someone who drifted towards abyssal measures and evil forces as though she could not become burned. "The red pill or the blue pill," stated plainly as the ornate box was presented; Enfenim was riddled with darkness, an elf who made a mockery of whatever life was meant for them within the faerie courts. Thicker than thieves, the two could find commonplace within their habitually illicit past times, but where Efigenia was carefully cut and placed within a certain ideal, Enfenim was a creature who made a name of himself by consistently coloring outside of such box. Chaos; as he had put it so eloquently. She was intrigued, but not for the sake of her own personal endeavors, simply because of the opportunities he'd boasted of, "You're not wanting me to be a test consumer, right?" The Advocate's lip quirked upward at that though her hand hovered over the pill as though even touching it could be detrimental.

"If you decide to wear it, you can... call upon me, and I, you. Our strengths, our presence, even the fundamental tether of our magic; it's more of a reservoir than an open channel. It has it's limits," she was no fool and she knew the Artificer was just as elusive, but the Advocate had made her stakes known and if he denied it; then that would be that.

He resonated a familiar pulse of magic, something dark which fettered quietly within; a note similar enough to sorcery but it had obtained some rancid quality about it. Efigenia's interest was silently piqued and they'd fallen into a similar beat as they wasted no time with a question, "Yes, I'm the Watcher of the Narcissus." The Advocate's head quirked to the side as though studying him, a brow raised before her face fell into a light smile, "It does often swallow it's weakest links whole. Are you interested in integrating with the covens? It's always safest to be apart of one, claim stakes in a family," she kept a slower pace as though the gift shop would mark an end to this conversation.

morena baccarin in the endgame

The Advocate conceals any conflict of grief as Valentina spirals into a fit of her own emotions; a spirit was always a dangerous creature when not handled with care. "We'll see," blind determination is firm, if Efigenia is to let this veil of indifference slip, Valentina would be another that would see this crippling fear looming around the witch like a rabid dog ready to feast upon any sense of weakness within her. Efigenia must be able to succeed in both paths, the Advocate would ensure the safety of the Narcissus, and she could obtain her fealty to the Infernal Seal and obtain her immortality, her craft. "It's too late for your warnings, Valentina, so please save your breath," it's not critical, it's almost a mourning; for all Kaan had done to save them all, her Sovereign and friend had also encouraged her to descend such dark path just the same. It was too late for salvation.

The museum had become a fresher place of solace for the Advocate, tucked away inside the blanketed years of history that surrounded her, it was here the Advocate could retain some piece of anonymity from her Watcher position. That is, if she wasn't so often putting herself upon the radar as some grieving widow with her antiquated fashion choices and gothic grandeur. The massive hat concealed most of her face and the Advocate tipped her head back just enough so her eyes could meet the others, shrugging, "I'll walk with you, it leads to the exit and I'm on my way out." A dramatic click of her heels resounded on the marble floors and she took a leisurely strut until the other witch caught up.