#targetgoku

Green “Anonymous” #2:      amaryllis -   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ?how do they express that pride ?

Botanical Headcanons - Not accepting!

Her research, obviously! Admittedly, she often has little opportunity to actually safely share her notes openly, given it’s taboo nature, but when she can? She’s eager to go over her efforts in obnoxious detail.

As an angel, she tends to be a bit hesitant to do so for obvious reasons... but, as a demon?

Disengaging from the stare down was the obvious correct answer. Immediately, there was not sight to steal. Silence was cut through with hurried apology. Effects ebbed as Fu refused to partake in them, batting them aside while the other Outer God listened. 

A noncommittal hum escaped Ln’eta as she gauged the answer given to her. Those moments where you hope to solve an issue and have to wait for if it will be taken. The way her eyes seemed to 

vie for 

with everything else both perceived and unperceived. The several long moments where she simply didn’t answer. 

‎

‎

“Thank you for understanding!”

Of course she forgave. It was the outcome both were aware was coming, so she dropped the act. Life returned to the room, the ever-present hum of existence filling the space around once the woman’s grip on it loosened anew. Hands clap, turning to grasp journal and slip it into her ‘purse’, vanishing into a fold of reality while she prepped. 

“I’m so glad you agreed to take me out today. You’re so sweet, darling!” 

“Aw, you want to hear about my family? I’m sure we’ll have a big family get-together (with some of us still asleep, of course. We do halvsies, y’know?) sometime soon! Gosh, but family really is important... Even if you don’t get along.” A pause, tapping tentacle feet to the floor while she thought it over.

“Well, okay, maybe you shouldn’t like your blood family just because they’re family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make new family, too! Not that I have a problem with my blood family!” A hasty double back, realizing the implications that could be entailed by such a statement. “Everyone is incredible at what they do! Top of their fields and inspirational!” 

An awkward chuckle, taking a moment to peek left and right just to ensure nobody else had heard that little slip-up she’d made in front of her darling. That was the last thing she needed. It was one thing to directly insult her sister...

“Anyways! Uh.. where was I..? 

. . . 

“Oh, darling! It’s good to see you! What have you go–”

She stopped. The room seemed to stop. Ambient noise dying with the rest while she stared. Sharp eldritch focus solely on the cake that had been delivered to her so generously. If Ln’eta’s gaze didn’t follow it, one might have thought time itself had frozen still. Several agonizing infinities passed while all the Outer God did was gaze at the confection. 

A slow chattering was heard, though not from the body one would call Ln’eta at first glance. It was behind, above, around. Everywhere. Growing more intense by the second as sound gnawed away at sight. Darkness pulling in at the edges, dragging in any sense of light—

Closer.

Ln’eta had gotten closer. Had there been a blink, some imperceptible and inconceivably small amount of time that let her close the distance? Whatever it was, she was so close one would feel the breath on their neck had the entity done such trifling things as breathe. 

Maw gaped as darkness encroached, nonexistent light seemed swallowed while it glinted on those innumerable devices of maiming as they sprung to life. Gnashing, grinding, closercloserclosercloser—

Darkness.

The sound of air being sliced like it was naught but a dream.

Nothingness.

‎

‎

“Oh, this is scrumptious, darling! You shouldn’t have!”

Space returns. Time returns.

The cake, sitting presentable on the table, had been sliced into a dozen equally portioned servings, one of which was being delicately held in Ln’eta’s hands. The way her eyes sparkled and her body refused to stay still showed her utter delight at the sudden gift. Was she so excited that, for a moment, she forgot herself?

Green “Anonymous” #2:  acanthus -   is your muse deceptive ,   or willing to lie or deceive to achieve certain means ?why or why not ?

Botanical Headcanons - Accepting!

Oh, absolutely. She has no qualms or shame in lying to achieve desired outcomes and get the answers she’s working towards, if she believes lying would at all help in the pursuit of her goals, or her own preservation of self. Not to say she’s asking dishonestly 100% of the time, but lies are tools she’s not afraid to use.

Green “Anonymous” #2: hollyhock -   how strong is your muse’s sense of ambition ?what’s something they strive for in life ?

Botanical Headcanons - Accepting!

As her actions have consistently shown, Azazel’s ambitions in her pursuit of knowledge and the indulgence of her curiosity knows no bounds, physical nor moral. She’s delved into the depths of the Nine Circles to study demons in-person, stood in watch as atrocities unfolded simply to understand the mindset of those enacting them, and most recently readily tossed humanity as a whole aside just for the chance to have dialogue with an Outer God.

She strives to learn, to answer questions that Heaven would rather ignore in spite of how helpful they’d be to know. To understand sin, master the occult, and know her “enemies” in their entirety.

Green “Anonymous” #2: rhododendron -   is your muse receptive to warnings   &   advice given by others ?

Botanical Headcanons - Accepting!

Not at all. Warnings and advice would’ve had her never take this role researching sin and the occult, resigning herself to another few thousand years ordering files in Heaven’s archives. No, she doesn’t heed warnings or advice no matter how often she gets them.

“My thoughts on the unknown? Gosh, darling, you should know that just by me being an Outer God! It’s so exciting, isn’t it? Something you know nothing about, wholly and utterly... Isn’t it so romantic? That hesitation. The way that any move could be your last. The adrenaline coursing through your veins as you lean in for a closer look. 

The deafening pounding in your chest as it

L O O K S  B A C K.”

. . .