The Ambitious Devil of Christ's Crown

A single ebony claw extended forward and pointed towards their masked face, but he would remain in place, earnestly trying to avoid the human to retreat further and brush off this encounter. The last thing he wanted was to waste his time or draw their ire, fighting against the strength of a god would be particularly troublesome.

"I am talking to you, the servant who hosts Deva. A deity is mighty, but not as mighty as the one who was mortal and now exists in a partnership with a such a being."

Blackheart couldn't help but wonder as to who they were before. What fate befell them and what strength they drew from before they were revived. Questions to be answered at another time, as he was sure they were eager to question just about…. everything that was happening right about now.

‘Deva, I don’t think this is one of Ravana’s remnants. I’ll manage, please stop banging the door. I’ll be fine.’ And they’re tuning out whatever Deva had to say ('LET ME OUT', 'Keeper, let me talk to him I don't trust him--', 'Please I don't something bad happen again--'), focusing their attention back to reality. They get Deva’s worrying, especially after the Ravana Incident (and then everything else after that) but! They're fine now! Mostly. A sigh, crossing their arms. Tugging on their sleeves a bit to help focus. Shifting their weight from side to side. Unsure on how to make of everything right now. Might as well blitz through some of the things they want to ask since they're playing 20 questions or some shit like that.

(Why not? They need a chill night anyway. Just for once).

But he needed that trust. It needed to persist. The second it shattered; he would simply have to start again. While time was merely a suggestion for a demon such as he, the last thing he craved to do was waste his time with meaningless interactions.

But he had to play his cards right. And that meant continuing to do his best to offset his appearance by coming off as reasonable as he could be. Or at least, try to come off as reasonable.

He cranes his neck to stare at the black monstrosity before him. There is a coldness to this creature, a blackness that consumes and destroys. There is something so terribly sinister and yet- Nova attempts a wobbly smile, waving one of his hands in a placating greeting.

This being... was far more than he. Blackheart, who had only known damnation, was now face-to-face with something that carried power than could be felt without attempting to make use of it. Was it fear that was sent down his spine, even when a simple and friendly greeting was being given?

He could hardly say.

For now, he simply stares, and brushes off the incorrect name being listed. And the comparison to a lowly animal.

“Oh! I’m-I’m a…I’m a…” A pause followed, his brow creasing in slight confusion. That was a difficult question. At one point, he was something more. Something grand and otherworldly and beautiful and now he was…

“I’m a Nova, I think.” 

He didn’t think he counted as a human being, even if he looked like one. Normal people didn’t teleport, or sometimes read minds, or alter reality. But he wanted to be human, to do things the way humans did. He wanted to feel…normal.

"....You are indeed a Nova." Was that the name that it chose to go by? It certainly looked human, and he was certain that if he were to possess the ability to cut it, it would bleed. But it was as far from human as anything could be, it was far grander than most could ever hope to be.

Red spheres examine the form of the person in front of him. They seemed so... unaware of many things. As if they were unsure of how to act, or what to say. Perhaps this was their first time simply being. Anything else like this on Earth would have caught his attention much sooner. But as no demon nor Hell Lord had been swarming for this one, Blackheart had decided that it was okay to simply take things slower.

If he were to build up a repertoire, then it should help him in the long run. There was no harm in attempting to make the most out of a situation after all.

He can feel the venom in her words, the hate in her eyes. Such a fierce look may have sent chills down the spine of most, but such an expression was a familiar sight for him, many mortals had worn it before, and many shall wear it after.

"Not as cruel?" She has faced enough cruelty in her life to recognise its symptoms. Perhaps this abomination had different thresholds but to mock her own son's suffering, when he has suffered so much already in his short life... it was unacceptable.

"Would you expect any less of the son of Mephisto?" The tone of his voice continues to mock, even if he had grown to resent his status as a tool. There is no empathy he holds for her, but he is waiting. Watching. His body as still as a status as those ember coals observe every aspect of her.

It was a harrowing experience, to be faced with the creature that so plagued your son’s nightmares. Its dense, scribbled mass brought from paper & charcoal into life before her. This monster had terrorised her son during his time on Earth, taken his friend’s life, plunged them into the depths of Hell.

He can feel the venom in her words, the hate in her eyes. Such a fierce look may have sent chills down the spine of most, but such an expression was a familiar sight for him, many mortals had worn it before, and many shall wear it after.

It wasn't often Blackheart would be seen without wanting to be seen, even if he existed as a lumbering mass of shadow and sin. He knew where to lurk, and he knew the blind spot of most mortals.

What he didn't anticipate was his own blind spot, and to see a mortal staring right at him.

It would be so easy. He could flee. He could take her soul and offer it to his father without anyone having the slightest clue. But that was not his orders, and he did not crave punishment for defying the devil's orders.

Instead, he was going to go along with this conversation. He would manifest his sentence in the air, having decided to make the most of the opportunity.

He decides to make the statement simple, and easy enough to understand:

「 ASSORTED DIALOGUE PROMPTS 1 」 ‧₊˚. ⸝⸝ 𑣲𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

Change as needed. A randomly assorted collection of dialogue prompts with no particular theme.

･ “ We don't have much time. ”

･ “ Don't pretend you don't care. ”

･ “ Why are you following me? ”

･ “ Say that again... slowly. ”

･ “ You're hiding something. ”

･ “ You look different from what I imagined. ”

･ “ We need to talk. Now. ”

･ “ That's not your name, is it? ”

･ “ You shouldn't trust me. ”

･ “ If I tell you the truth, you can't leave. ”

･ “ Why didn't you call me? ”

･ “ You're late. ”

･ “ You're impossible. ”

･ “ You always do this. ”

･ “ Look at me when I'm talking to you. ”

･ “ I'm not asking again. ”

･ “ You're lying. ”

･ “ Are you afraid of me? ”

･ “ Something's wrong. ”

･ “ Did you hear that? ”

･ “ You're not alone. ”

･ “ We're not alone. ”

･ “ Stay behind me. ”

･ “ You're shaking. ”

･ “ Don't touch that. ”

･ “ I'm here. ”

･ “ You opened it? ”

･ “ I can't forgive you. ”

･ “ I forgive you. ”

･ “ I won't leave you. ”

･ “ You don't have to do this alone. ”

･ “ I tried to warn you. ”

･ “ But you promised. ”

･ “ And you love it. ”

･ “ You're worse. ”

･ “ I dare you. ”

･ “ You always have a choice. ”

･ “ Just try. ”

･ “ Not this time. ”

He cranes his neck to stare at the black monstrosity before him. There is a coldness to this creature, a blackness that consumes and destroys. There is something so terribly sinister and yet- Nova attempts a wobbly smile, waving one of his hands in a placating greeting.

This being... was far more than he. Blackheart, who had only known damnation, was now face-to-face with something that carried power than could be felt without attempting to make use of it. Was it fear that was sent down his spine, even when a simple and friendly greeting was being given?

He could hardly say.

For now, he simply stares, and brushes off the incorrect name being listed. And the comparison to a lowly animal.

Ghost Rider, Spirit of Vengeance