@infernal-general ━━━ ⟢ “I'm not your rib, I'm not your bride, I am the sin you can't hide. Don't dare to ever speak to me like that. You will always be beneath me both in rank and as a being.”
⅋. A TRIUMVIRATE OF UNREASON GOVERNS HIS MIND, HIS BODY, HIS SOUL. Wrath becomes chimeric, turning every which way, that mindless beast called indignation. It is with Jacobian effort that he leashes it within the cage of his heart, bids it lie still, and composes himself with the last vestige of dignity left unstripped from him. The red skies of the Inferno pool above as a cachet, sealing the madness of the hour, the absurdity of his intentions. To seek her out is to step willingly into the maw of a beast, and he had done so with exultant fervour. Steel unto steel. Her blade catches the edge of his helm and sunders it cleanly twain. Adam tears the ruined thing from his head and casts it aside with careless violence; it strikes the blackened stone and skids into shadow. Her figures waxes and wanes in his peripheral, a living flame, hellfire incarnate. No idle taunt does she levy against him, but a blade intended to cut beneath blood & bone, the place in him where God's breath nestles. This woman is the antithesis of all he once stood for ━━━ but they have stripped him of rank, and of purpose, and he stands for it no more. Demoness though she may be, she alone among living creatures seems capable of beholding the ruin of him and naming it for what it is. ❛ I'll speak to you however I damn well please. Do you think me another demon bargaining for scraps in the dark? I am not. If you wanted a toy, you'd have gotten one. Any bumbling angelic commander could have suited your whims ━━━ If I were beneath you, Rozália, ❜ Gauntled hand grasps the naked steel of her sword, pulling her forth with it, the shape of her name sweet as poison on his tongue, rich with morbidity festing into amusement. ❛ You'd have killed me already. ❜
In Heaven, he had once watched her from the lofty dais of the great amphitheatre, enthroned amidst marble and gold, as she spilt blood in the pursuit of a freedom dangled. All manner of beast had been set against her, and she triumphed. It was not mercy he had bestowed upon her then, when he had called for a spectacle in lieu of execution. It was not a kindness, but respect. The General Véghváry ought not perish in chains, beneath a decree. If death must claim her, he had bid the Seraphim, then let it come honestly, with steel in hand, fury in her breast, and the world forced to wrest her soul from her by violence. And if no beast nor warrior could lay her low, then perhaps freedom was earned by right of conquest.
I am the sin you can't hide. The sound which slips from his throat is gnarled, a laugh or a growl, as she slips away from his grasp. Her each hit is parried, and his deflected in turn. Of all the sins he has indulged, this woman must be the worst. He has gorged on this infernal want, every atom of him craving her. He knows no end to desiring her, sin and all. ❛ I've purged cities wrought of sin, turned their castles to salt, and their armies to ash. I have led crusades for Heaven since before your Vatican learned to make assassins out of little girls. ❜ Fire dances in her eyes, and as a heretic at the stake, he is entrapped entirely in the molten gaze of her. Vexation smoulders within him, bright embers enflame with her every word. ❛ Do not mistake this for admission, nor our shared necessity for an alliance as a surrender, ❜ The chain around his own throat is not forged of steel, but service. The Treaty breached, his rank stripped, there is little left for him in Heaven ━━━ right now, he has the terrible feeling he might need her more than she needs him. ❛ But I tire of brides, and of saints. Fuck that. What good are Heaven and Hell? ❜
