#falconeleanora

The words sank in and Agata's eyes widened in horror as she realized what that meant. "Oh, fuck, you heard that?!" She ran a hand over her face. It made sense, she supposed. Lute was Eleanora, after all. But still, she was mortified that Lute had heard their escapades.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she turned away. "Dios mio-"

The spider sitting across from her swirled his own glass around a little in his hand.

Vaggie's expression hardened in response and she growled, "I'm not stupid, Lute. I know we're all down here for a reason- but something I've learned is that life isn't fair and it isn't always feasible to do the right thing without getting hurt or dying. And the people around me? They deserve a second chance. They're good people. They just need to realize they want the help."

Politics at some point evolved to a point that heat cycles could be cause for attempted coups. Lucifer didn't like the idea of putting his wife and close to him in an attempt in danger. He worked with Ozzie to help develop suppressors. Something supplied to only the Sins and selected royals. Make it easier for just the elite to schedule their Heats at the safest time.

After Lilith left, he stopped bothering with them. His Heat cycle and depression fighting one another was an interesting mess only his staff and Ozzie were privy to witness. Through encouragement, Ozzie managed to convince Lucifer to at least keep taking some medication for the Heat cycle if he wasn't going to do anything about the depression.

Thankfully, he slowly began to pull himself out of it, and bury himself with work. Plenty of paperwork piled up and he begrudgingly began to do it. Paperwork somehow eventually meant corresponding with Heaven, which turned to meetings. He hated them, but...it kept things organized.

He had one coming up and it wasn't able to be rescheduled, despite how hard he tried. His Heat had officially started and even though he was on the suppressants, it didn't leave him in his best mood.

Still, he went. Sure of himself...until he arrived in Hell's embassy in Heaven. At first he thought they were merely being dramatic by making the place hotter than it actually was. As he waited for his meeting to start and the representative to arrive, he became warmer and unfocused...the slight early tellings of a Heat starting. But...how? He's been taking the dosages! On time and without fail!

He didn't want to seem as weak, and he told himself that the effects were coming on slowly. He could breeze through this meeting without issue and then make it home and deal with his Heat on his own.

"How are you... feeling?" He knows that it must have been awful to fall. He recalls it like it was yesterday when he was cast down. The agony he felt, the way it burnt, and how he felt the crushing impact of the ground in hell.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to. But since you're here... I figured I'd lend an ear."

It perhaps could have come sooner. Or perhaps the timing was just right. But Coronis had needed to do some extra steps to get everything absolutely perfect.

The package in her arms was very long. It might be mistaken for a new sword, given Eleanora's previous affiliation. The garden was lush with autumn colors for the season, but there were still lilies growing lush in their beds and the scent of hellsuckle was pervading everywhere, making the air sweet. Rook's Rest was becoming quite cozy with Eleanora's efforts.

It's not often, per se, that they get new Exorcists-- enough, certainly, to fill the ranks and to keep up with the rising population of the Earth-- to walk through it, Jerusalem had once seemed endless, and to see the Pentagram from above had once been dizzying. Nothing had loomed overheard like the modern metropolis that was Hell-- or Heaven, for that matter.

She'd grown used to it, at some point. Trained until the blade in her hand was as familiar as the last rites, and until she was good. It made for a useful conduit for devotion, a holy order in which to find herself. All of which is to say, that she'd been asked to watch over the newest recruit, one taken from the angels of death, Anael had been told.

@falconeleanora said: "Ugh..." Eleanora groaned softly in discomfort, her arms hanging limply over the back of the chair she was sitting backwards in and her wings spread out awkwardly behind her. "I hate molting..." A common opinion of hers, even without this one being the worst she'd had in decades. (For either Kezi or Azrael :3)

"Oof. Looks like a rough one," Azrael said as he walked in. He set down a cup of tea and asked, "Do you want some mist to help the itchiness?"

Keziah poked her head in the room and whistled, "Damn! You're goin' through it, huh?"