#devilinviolet

Meme || Closed

The little girl looked up at her dad staring off at something she couldn’t see and reached for his human hand, kissing one of his finger tips and the back of his hand before lightly tugging on Nero’s arm for him to pick her up. As his attention turned to her, Myra kissed his knuckles quickly, spurred on by the memories of grown-up gossip her teachers hadn’t known she’d heard and how badly she’d wanted to storm in and yell at them that her Papa was the best and the nicest, even if he got grumpy sometimes. 

@devilinviolet continued from here

This was a familiar feeling, the one of being reborn. Of harnessing power and hate. He’d escaped through one of the various hell gates that had popped up throughout the city. Where his brothers had sauntered through, where his Master sent him. He had more restrictions after Mundus had healed him a second time, after he’d been recalibrated. Honed once again into the weapon he had been before. 

But he went where his master bid him, and so the devil had led an army through the portal that remained after the pesky humans had ended their initial plans.They would retake this world quickly, and this time they wouldn’t have to rely on pesky humans to wear themselves down first.

But first, there was something he needed, whose power he felt as clear as his connection to his master. Part of Mundus’ reasons for letting him leave. He could not fight as hard without it, and in the Dark Lord’s hands, it was a means to an end.

“Honestly...”A  shadowy figure sighs as he walks over to a person of authority that is now crawling onto the floor injured. “Why did you run?” He asked him. “Shouldn’t you fight back more or do you like beating people down that don’t defend themselves because you know you get away with it and they can’t if they did opposite?”

Eyelids part far too slowly, the haze of drowsiness coiled ‘round her slender frame still, alcohol taking its toll – sending waves of throbbing pains unto a damaged mind. Whilst part of her believed that she was in hands of comfort, the ruckus occurring around her stated otherwise.

‘Already at the bar, huh?’

Stormy irises glaze over the interior of the bar sluggishly – from right to left and back ‘till lashes fall low, capturing the sight of a contained glistening amber substance laid before her. The curves of her lips threatened a smile, just barely lifting. Reddened fingertips inched towards the glass carefully, fingers sliding against the sleek texture until her palm could rest upon the petite glass.

With knees pressed against one another, she kept distance between feet and positioned them slightly inwards, toes almost facing the same direction whilst lifting the glass towards pursed lips. An unwavering gaze was set against the door, curiosity nipping at the back of her mind, almost eager to snatch a glance at the next face to enter.