@pelcrus location: Palatine Hill notes: dawuh
There was a good reason why demons forgot their lives, it didn't serve a demon's nature to remember what it had been like to be human. To be someone's daughter, to want to feel loved, to feel appreciated, and to have the sort of hopes and dreams that were so completely mortals. Viola had once been a girl whose fingers were rubbed raw from the efforts of silk, who laughed under the lowlight of her father's priests, and danced as if at any moment her own mortality would come calling.
Remembering hadn't been the blessing that Viola had thought it would be, Arachne had died far below: Viola was loved, she was needed, and she was appreciated. The former was just a girl who had loved her father so much that she truly believed he'd have found her even in Hell. Pelorus was famed for his ability to locate just about anything and anyone, Thebes was revered under his protection for reasons that extended beyond his prowess with his blade. So many years she'd waited, it was foolish of course and Viola didn't begrudge him for not storming the nine levels of hell as Dante was said to have done for Beatrice. Still, Arachne had hoped, and then she had forgotten what hope felt like. Lucifer had seen to that.
"I didn't think it was true." Viola started, her father had died and that's what she had believed a century ago when she first walked this realm again. "I told them: my father wouldn't be cut down, not even a God could slay him." Because what else was a father in the eyes of a child if not divine?
