#speakercfgcd

Thats- an angel? They looked a lot like a Goetia... but they were giving off holy vibes. Should he run? The extermination isn't a thing anymore, did that still mean hellborn were exempt from getting hurt? Why won't his legs MOVE.

❪ ✦ ❫ㅤ“𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.” Heel strikes the floor, bringing the room firmly to attention. “Your irrelevant conversations, petty disputes, & whatever else you’ve decided constitutes productive use of your time are hereby suspended.” The luminous eyes of her LED mask narrow upon the crowd: “You have been granted the exceedingly rare privilege of existing in the presence of the Crowned Commander of the Host. Act accordingly.” [ cue a pointed gesture toward Adam, ] “Show some fucking enthusiasm. I should not have to explain this.” Her expression hardens by degrees. “Anyone caught wasting this opportunity will answer directly to me.” [ —silence, ] “Yes, that includes lurking.” Another. “Especially lurking. That includes you Peter!”ㅤ/ㅤment: @speakercfgcd

@speakercfgcd from HERE

"I suppose one must simply be given the space to change, in the end," she murmurs, flipping through a page of her book absentmindedly. "Trying to force change upon an individual rarely, if ever, ends well. It is up to them to decide whether to earnestly change, or whether to hide parts of themselves away until it consumes them. We cannot make the choice for them." But oh, how she desperately wishes she could sometimes.

She finally sets the book aside to look down at the former Exorcist properly, a warm smile on her face. "But I have always enjoyed having philosophical conversations like this. If you wish to share your viewpoint, Vaggi, I would welcome it. It is truly good to see your face again."

When she had, although reluctantly, agreed to accompany Charlie on another trip to Heaven, ending up sitting alone with the Speaker of God was the last thing Vaggi had expected. She had thought that she would be by the princess's side, supporting her through her talks with Sera and Emily, ready to step in to shield her if things had gotten too harsh.

Instead, the Head Seraphim had insisted on speaking to Charlie alone and none of the former Exorcist's protests had been able to change her mind. Eventually, her girlfriend had stepped in and soothed her, assuring her that she would have been fine and telling her to exploit this chance to have a little walk around.

Vaggi had agreed, of course, because saying no to Charlie is something she truly can't do, no matter how much in disagreement she is with the other's decisions.

Still, the idea of wandering around in her former realm isn't appealing at all to her, so eventually she had settled down in one of the Palace's indoor gardens. She hadn't realised that she wasn't alone until it had been too late and it would have been incredibly rude to walk off after the Speaker had already spotted her.

The question had bubbled past her lips after a few long minutes of silence, the quiet having become too uncomfortable for the fallen angel for her to bear it. Why she has asked that, she doesn't know. However, she remembers hearing, back in the day, that the Speaker's presence tends to push people to bring up what's on their mind.

"So, if there's not enough space, not enough time, all we're left with is faking it?" She finds herself questioning, head slightly turned to the side. Her tone isn't hostile, but there's a tension lingering in it. It makes her sound on edge. "And hope we can get somewhere before it drives us mad?"

Her eyes slide close for a moment, to shield themselves from the too bright glow of the divine being. Once upon a time, she would have been able to gaze at her without issues, but not anymore. It's hard to say if it's part of the curse of being fallen or if it's merely because she has spent so long in the dim darkness of Hell that she's no longer used to the light.

"And you say that no one can choose for someone else, but...hasn't Heaven been deciding for millions of souls for thousands of years?" The propaganda, the Exterminations, the lies, the hypocrisy. "I truly mean no disrespect, Your Highness, but...I've learnt the hard way that things are much more complicated to be marked as either black or white."

Back when she had been fully integrated in Adam's army, she had been convinced that the world was a simple mix of right and wrong, and that distinguishing one from the other was easy. Now she knows how limited and biased and untrue that kind of vision is. Everything is relative, depending on which point of view you choose to look at it.

" Oink oink ? "

White orbs blaze within carmine hues. Stolas shrinks a bit into himself, fingers steepling nervously together as shoulders rise and features become...uncertain. He tips feathered head in respect and acknowledgement, of course! But to say the exiled prince is merely nervous would be an understatement. He is not finely dressed, but instead still bears the uniform of The Twisted Horn - though he is grateful it is at least somewhat appropriate. A white button up shirt tucked into pinstripe slacks and a black bistro apron around his waist. There are, he supposes, worst times in which to be caught by someone so... radiant.

Conveniently, no one is around at the moment to witness the encounter, though for how long...he does not know. What he is aware of, is that this being is one of great importance. Either he has failed some grand scheme yet again, or... well what else is there?