Sattina Mantodea, oil painting by Dos Diablos on Instagram
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Sattina Mantodea, oil painting by Dos Diablos on Instagram
Owning this cicada lamp made by @cady_the_creator would solve all my problems
Surreal graphite illustrations by frankfolium
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Zepar: Random Lyric Open Starter
"Rome wasn't built in a day," the red haired man drawls, observing the other's efforts with a flat expression. The saying is often meant as a comforting platitude, but coming from him it sounds distinctly more judgmental. "But if I were there, it probably would've been."
"Oh? Do you have some sort of background in urban planning or civil engineering." Berith replies, still pouring over a construction report about a new factory-city going up in the second circle. After scratching in several last minute annotations and setting it aside for Beelzebub, he finally glances up at Zepar. "Or were you just trying to get my attention."
Dolce & Gabbana Fall 2015
As the buzzing begins to crescendo, all four of their eyes twitch in annoyance. Only one of their relatives used flies as his hallmark. Ugh. The tiny pests appear from everywhere, and Sitri feels the urge to swat at them, idly wondering if heâd feel it if they crushed a few. But, but- decorum and survival instinct did suggest they show some amount of respect to more powerful demons, as much as the display rankled them. They reign in the impulse, instead settling on staring impassively as the swarm of flies converges and seems to fold in on itself until a figure emerges, the black cloud congregating like a living veil atop an uncannily slender frame.
And people thought Sitri was dramatic.
âBeelzebub,â they greet in return. âYou know, itâs customary to send a representative and request a formal meeting. Iâm very busy.â A pause. âAnd six minutes what?â
"Yes I'm sure you are." An acknowledgement in words only. He has little doubt that Sitri has a full schedule, but he doesn't make a habit of organizing his time around others. Besides, given his knowledge of the prince's behavior, the likelihood of everything on it being important is low. "Six minutes before you noticed I had infiltrated your palace. You could stand to be more watchful. But that's not why I'm here."
He stalks slowly towards the throne as he continues, flies trailing behind him like the tail of a particularly leisurely comet. "I was looking at reports coming out Circle Two and I noticed Arammu seems to be lagging behind some of the neighboring regions." There's that same feeling of a smile again, and its not any more friendly than before. "I had a little chat with Asmodeus about it and we decided it would be a good idea to lend you my chief clerk to help you iron out any... inefficiencies in how you run things."
Holy Trinity by daivisonvasconcelos
âHer Majesty requests-âÂ
â-a meeting. Yes, yes; fine.âÂ
The Prince strolls down the palace corridor at a languid pace, though even this necessitates the smaller creatures in their company hustle. On one side, a horned entity keeps pace, scratching notes with one set of hands while another set remains folded neatly behind its back; a veil emblazoned with Sitriâs sigil obscures its face. On their other side, a very much human soul-- a young woman with long chestnut hair, clad all in white-- half-jogs along, seemingly quite at ease with the monstrous beings beside her. The unfortunate messenger-- an amphibious sort of thing with glistening grey skin-- flaps back and forth behind them on leathery wings. The corridor opens into the throne room.
âExcellent, Highness, excellent. And-â
â-tell her not here, though,â Sitri interrupts again, ascending the dais to sink onto the throne. The human follows close behind and kneels on a cushion at the demonâs feet. Sitri reaches down and idly pets the womanâs hair. âI donât need Mother sending the city into a frenzy again.âÂ
âWill you travel to the Ninth, then, Prince Sitri?âÂ
âUgh.â A polyphonic noise of exasperation. âThat is for the best.âÂ
âOh splendid, Highness. The Queen will be most pleased, most pleased.âÂ
They wave their free hand dismissively. âNyrox, make arrangements. Go.â The horned demon and the messenger bow and exit. âYou, too.â They nudge the human with a claw, and she scurries off as well, pausing only briefly to kiss Sitri's hand.
They survey the seemingly empty room for a moment. âEavesdropping is impolite,â they intone drily.
At their comment a faint buzzing noise begins to fill the room, just at the edge of hearing. It slowly rises in volume, and as it does, the original fly is rapidly joined by more, crawling spontaneously from cracks between tiles and hidden spots behind pillars and door frames. They swarm inward, forming a roiling cloud before the throne, and then begin to condense further, coalescing into a solid shape.
Within seconds a male figure stands before Sitri. Tall, impossibly thin, and with his head still obscured behind a swarm of black flies. As the last of them join in, he snaps a brass pocket watch shut -An obvious show of theatrics to anyone familiar with him, he has a perfect sense of time- and tucks it back into the pocket of his suit, the buzzing of wings resolving into a thin voice.
"Six minutes. Hello Sitri."
Beelzebub steps forward, internally filing away the sight of the soul Sitri dismissed. Something else for Berith to report on. He steeples his fingers together as he turns his full attention to the prince, And while his face remains hidden as always, the tone of his next sentence carries a smile on it, and not a particularly pleasant one.
"I was passing through the neighborhood and thought that I should drop in for a minute. I have something to discuss with you."
@esotericjerks
A black fly buzzes through the sky above Arammu. Flies don't go to hell of course, animals in general don't, and flies are such small short lived creatures that the tiny spark of life within them barely even resembles a soul. But if anyone has told this particular fly, it doesn't seem to care.
It drifts in a lazy arc towards the palace, circling the massive stone building once before darting in through an empty window. Once inside its movements are purposeful, darting down empty corridors as it makes its way deeper in. Whenever one of the palace's inhabitants passes it it alights on a wall or ceiling, a tiny speck almost entirely beyond notice, buzzing onward as soon as it is alone once more.
As it finally arrives in the same room as the Prince it slows, its destination seemingly reached. In a jerky series of movements it scuttles across the ceiling and down to a vantage point on a nearby pillar, where it goes completely still, watching them blankly through compound eyes.
hellofadealâ:
Do you think Leonardo DiCaprio would wish to attend my coronation?
If it was happening on Earth Iâd say sure, but I donât know if you want to be responsible for introducing Leonardo DiCaprio to the terrifying existential crisis of a very literal purgatory and all that it implies.
He already knows. How did you think he finally got that oscar.
@8demons Do you mind? an open conflict with the host does nothing to further our current goals.
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then tell that dickhead not to tell me what to do. laws of physics dont belong to angels, you know. so what if i suspend them from time to time??
Just do it where they cannot see, the eyes of heaven are half blind as it is, why antagonize them?
@8demons Do you mind? an open conflict with the host does nothing to further our current goals.
Demons seals by Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, based upon designs from the early 16th century