@apprehensivities from x.
"BRAVO, THAT WAS quite the virtuoso performance!"
the enthusiastic clapping of the demon prince's taloned hands echoed eerily all around the stunned silence of recent death, as he sauntered in prowling semi-circles around the bashful musician and bona-fide director of the orchestra of sacrificial massacre around them; bodies lay scattered on the floor, bowed upon their discarded instruments, some with their hands uselessly reaching skywards in their final, gasping moments.
(as if anyone up there cared!)
first, four crimson slits burn like coals embedded within a deathly pale mask; an impossibly tall and other-worldly silhouette shrouded in an army of eldritch shadows heaving and slithering around him, trailing with every step and swish of his cloak as they danced with the flickering candlelight. the owl prince of the ars goetia finally came into full view and regal finery in the dimly lit, unhallowed grounds of the deconsecrated church.
"--and what a marvellous setting. I'm more of a violin enthusiast myself, but the organ does make for a gloriously rhapsodic entrance. it's been a while since someone used this particular ritual to sell their soul for musical prowess, no less. how poetic."
he cooed in unabashed delight, stopping short of the small human so that his sinister shadow covered him like a cold mantle. the ritual was rather old and full of whimsical flourish and dramatic flair, just as stolas had intended many moons before when he guided the hand that wrote it to summon him in a most triumphant fashion. it had been a long time since he'd felt the irresistible pull of a summoning, tearing at the seams of his essence, unmaking him to remake him on the earthly plane where his sacrifice of souls awaited.
(he'd been merciful - as beautiful as fresh blood looked, streaked across marble floors and spattered prettily upon the rotting stone of the faces of angelic statues, he allowed for the victims to keep their blood and organs within their bodies.)
he'd been since burning with curiosity as to who had pulled off such a feat-- only to find out it had been helplessly accidental, a child playing with a stick of dynamite.
the demon canted his crowned head, slender talons curling around his chin in thought as he mused and studied his latest summoner with a whetted predatory gaze, as if to pick him apart morsel by delicious morsel.
"hm, looks like you didn't properly read the label though. it takes a rather large sacrifice to summon someone like me, you know ? oh, but don't you worry about the mess, my dear."
he made a vaguely sweeping gesture towards the remains of slaughter, unable to restrain a gleeful hoot before schooling his expression into one of fabricated sympathy for the musician's unfortunate (or perhaps fortunate, depending on the prince's mood) plight.
"I assure you they barely suffered --well, at least compared to what they will experience once they've descended to hell. now.."
he clasped his taloned hands, shifting his mien into an amiably lighthearted one without warning, as if he were simply switching between theatrical masks.
"--onto business. what can this old owl do for you, my dear fellow ? "
