#grimowled

Some of us lore nerds have already come up with ways to step around this, such as that this is merely a cover-up by Heaven in order to hide that so many angels once fell. But what is your lore for them?

I'm canon divergent on this one - surprise surprise. I think that the concept of 'creation' is used quite loosely - as most demons are either fallen angels, powerful sinners or, (at least in viv's works), spawn of other demons.

so! the ARS GOETIA, in hh/hb continuity, are a powerful, high-ranking class of demonic aristocracy - ancient and self-perpetuating; they have hereditary titles and their bloodlines are obsessively preserved. paimon, for instance, is notoriously strict about lineage: marriage is political and dynastic, a tool to preserve the purity of the goetia line. so belonging is inherited, not earned or bought in.

their origin lies with the FALL. they descend from fallen angels - paimon being one of them - elevated as lucifer's nobility.

in short, I would interpret the concept of being 'created by lucifer' more as a rebrand (like a king making knights): when they fell to follow him, he made them into his royal court, and they were reborn into a new role and purpose - so yes, in that sense lucifer may well be the architect and curator of this part of hell's social structure.

as for the cover-up theory, for me it works if the heaven we see is a simulation where relatively young souls (or at least not old enough to remember the fall) reside, curated to maintain a fragile order and prevent any further rebellion; or if indeed the eldest angels have kept it a strict secret (for good reason): after all, if the residents learned that more than one angel had exercised free will and survived, it would shatter the illusion that angels are morally infallible. so, better to believe that lucifer fell alone because he was flawed, and that he was responsible for creating the ars goetia, than that a lot of angels followed him willingly.

𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗? ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ?

＊ ind., pilot based & canon divergent stolas, prince of the ars goetia of H E L L U V A B O S S summoned by troupe master grimm. also found on the archangel michael - archmight

The humble commoner Stolas kept largely to himself. It was easiest to avoid attention if he kept out of the way, but on this day he had felt the need to stretch his sizeable legs a little. He was one of a very small number of Goetians who regularly visited the city and so very easy to pick out, towering over the imp population. He kept his attention buried in his hellphone so he could pretend to ignore the jeers coming his way as he headed from the book store, instinctively walking home.

Hearing a particularly nasty comment his head whipped around to face behind himself to find it's origin with an indignant hoot, completely failing to see the strange ethereal portal in front of him before walking through--seeing it only as it closed behind him.

A chilling thought hit him. 'Oh. Oh shit. I've gone Sideways.'

On top of that, looking around, he realised he had been walking home to his former manor. Recognising the area, the manor itself still out of sight. But everything looked... wrong. Sharper? Crueler, if he had to put a word to it. More bleak. The imps wouldn't look at him, instead hurrying away trying not to be seen.

He had stepped Sideways before on accident, especially in his early days of magic study. A reality or five away from his own home, never anything too far. An occasional Sideways self popped in, cordial greetings would be shared. Perhaps a restorative cup of tea so the traveller could intentionally find his (or one time her) home.

"say, you look rather unique. a demon unlike anyone I've seen-- and I've seen quite a few, but none as charming." | @grimowled

Send "You look like you…", complete the sentence, and see how my muse reacts to being told that! | Accepting

He was beyond alarmed if not a smidge wary and terrified. He wasn't anything special let alone an overlord, just a very small TV demon. He had been performing on stage at the club connected to the Studio his boss owned. He had been pulled aside after his set and had come face to face with a revered prince of Ars Goetia.

Unique was an interesting choice of words to describe him, well it was better than being called cute and small... his hands busied themself with his large bow tie picking and squeezing at it as he shrunk himself away from the prince.

"Oh.... uh... thank you, Your Highness..." He had never talked to a Royal before, there were a few instances he had seen the Princess or even been lucked with going to one of the Queen's concerts before. Those were... normal and expected, being face to... well it was more like he had a clear look at this man's crotch more than he'd like to admit. Though to keep the Prince charmed and entertained he took off his tophat and took a bow. His large antenna bounced floppily as he straightened himself back up the ends slightly tapping his face.

"Uh... Is it okay to ask.... why you wanted to see me? Aside from the very generous compliment?" His boss rarely let him meet other Overlords or anyone of importance without him glued to his side usually talking for him.

Couldn't let the opportunity slip away he supposed.

"Typically my boss is here with me for these things... Did you ask him?" He doubted that the man would have let him meet Prince Stolas of all people by himself, he wondered if he was bribed... or threatened.

Angsty Kiss Meme / Accepting || @grimowled

HE KEEPS HER CLOSE. . . To those with rose tinted glasses, one might suggest his embrace is akin to a lover's, or a close friend sharing a secret. Even though his movements, his very form is haunting, achingly dangerous, and only invites certain entrapment; peril and horror. The talons on her shoulder tighten, discretely possessive. One eye closes, ears folding upon receiving such a deceivingly sweet kiss to her head. His affections always came with a price or a game to play. Aerwyn's acute senses and time with the prince made her aware of such.

Everything will be alright, my pet. She should recoil, should bark a bitter protest. The volatile storm within her says to break free and challenge him. Instead, like a good pet indeed, Aerwyn offers a slow, swaying wag of her tail and a cautious smile. Something terrible was afoot if he was speaking in such cryptic and kind ways, pairing it with tender gestures. Perhaps she had made a mistake, and would soon be answering for it.

Despite knowing his words were poison, a lie fed to her coated in nectar, she laps it up. A small, secretive part of her is thrilled. Perhaps she has done something right, and he is planning to use her and equip her natural abilities further. A task would soon be set upon her? Aerwyn doesn't shrink away, but she doesn't chase him for more, either.

"Even among family?" She didn't need to ask that question, for she already knew the answer. The past seventeen years had all been one huge lie, and no amount of sweet, comforting words could erase the hurt she felt from such a truth.

If she were younger, Octavia would have believed those words. Now? After finding out the truth? Her father's words only filled her with anger.

"A while? Don't you mean constantly? I suppose you only scream at mum every once in a while too. Did you forget our time at Loo Loo Land, which you spent most of hitting on him? And what about the promise you made to take me to see the stars? You had promised, and you broke it, all so you could keep fighting with mum.

I had wanted to forgive you, and I tried. You say that you adore me, but how can you when you've done nothing but break promises and lie to me? How can you adore me when you would rather be off with that imp or fight instead of spending time with me.

It just wasn’t in her to care, today of all days.

A little away from the viscera, a dark feather sat where it had been dropped during it’s holder’s disembowelment, untouched by blood.

Cursed indeed, it would seem~