Prince Vassago of the Ars Goetia @vassago-rp - Tumblr Blog

Starter for: @the-starling-files

Vassago was assigned with the task of addressing the press after the trial, something he was not looking forward to but he was rather good at it. He was able to charm the press quite easily but he knew afterwards he would need a stiff drink and a bath.

The prince stepped outside of the council, swarmed by people and camera, lights flashing in his face as he approached the swarm. “Por favor, one at a time!” He sighed audibly at the chaos before pointing to the only member of the press that looked reserved and calm.

“Yes, you there. What is your question?” He gestured to Starling, the rest of the crowd going silent to hear what they had to say.

the-starling-files

Starling lowered her hand and nodded graciously at the prince’s acknowledgment. Her voice was calm and steady as she spoke, cutting through the noise with ease.

“Detective Juniper Starling, PPD,” she introduced herself succinctly. “Your Highness, I need a moment of your time after this press conference. It’s regarding an urgent matter that requires your attention. It's about the trial.”

Her expression was intense and resolute, as she waited for his reply amidst the flashes and murmurs of the gathered press.

Vassago frowned at her, “This couldn’t wait?” He sighed, and waved her off, continuing with the press and answering enough of their questions where they would leave him alone before he signaled to Starling to follow him back into the building.

“What could you possibly want from me? I am just a council member. I had no control over the proceedings.” Though he wish that he had, he would have prevented Stolas from loosing everything.

the-starling-files

Detective Starling noted the prince's passive-aggressive tone but let it roll off her shoulders. She was no stranger to skepticism or disdain—being a hybrid in the Pride Police Department had thickened her skin long ago. She met his irritation with a composed, professional demeanor as they stepped back into the building.

“First of all, Your Highness, I wanted to commend you. For keeping your head clear during the trial and asking the right questions. Not many would have dared demand that Prince Stolas be summoned. In fact, you were the only one who defended his rights.”

She paused, letting the sincerity of her words settle before continuing, her voice taking on a gentler edge.

“I’m sorry things didn’t go the way you hoped. It’s bitter, yes, but maybe not everything is lost.”

Her expression hardened slightly, her investigative instincts surfacing.

“I’ll be blunt. I don’t trust Striker’s testimony. My gut tells me he lied. But now, with the amnesty in place, it’s going to be nearly impossible for me to get close enough to him, let alone make him confess.”

Her tone was calm but resolute, her eyes searching Vassago’s for even a glimmer of shared understanding.

“I think you might be the only one willing to help me figure out the truth."

Vassago lead her into his office and closed the door, sitting behind his desk and gesturing to the chair opposite him for her to sit in.

“I admire that you seek the truth, as do I but Satan himself has made a ruling. If we went against him, we would need concrete evidence or both of our lives would be at risk. Do you understand? This is not a fun little investigation. This is life threatening work. You need to let it go.”

He didn’t want to get another Hellborn involved in Goetia matters, especially not when it could have her killed.

Vassago laughed a little too hard at that, “Me? Heaven’s no! I rather like being unattached. Let’s me do what I want when I want. If you know what I mean.” He smirked as he looked down at his phone.

“Ah, look, someone you can hire to build an app. That would be rather useful. I will contact them.” He sent off an email to the owner of the listing and set his phone aside.

“Well I think we did enough for one day. Reconvene tomorrow?”

a-hell-of-a-time

Andrealphus did, in fact, know what he meant. Being unwed had allowed Andrealphus to do as he pleased, not unlike the prince he was conversing with. However, something about Vassago's smirk made him wonder if there was some other meaning to his words.

Looking around at the work that remained for them, Andrealphus let out a sigh. "I suppose." A part of him was tempted to stay and keep organizing, but the marquis had his own work to attend to.

#helluva boss rp #icyago RP

“I shall see you then. Goodnight cariño!” Vassago waved and opened a portal back home, deciding he would finish his work there. He sat out on his patio over looking the pool and gardens with a glass of wine and the paperwork he had to go over.

The next morning he arrived back at the council building, coffee in hand as he sat at the desk he had used previously. The person he had hired to make their app would be coming in today and he wanted to be ready.

Starter for: @the-starling-files

“Yes, you there. What is your question?” He gestured to Starling, the rest of the crowd going silent to hear what they had to say.

the-starling-files

Starling lowered her hand and nodded graciously at the prince’s acknowledgment. Her voice was calm and steady as she spoke, cutting through the noise with ease.

Her expression was intense and resolute, as she waited for his reply amidst the flashes and murmurs of the gathered press.

“What could you possibly want from me? I am just a council member. I had no control over the proceedings.” Though he wish that he had, he would have prevented Stolas from loosing everything.

“Yes, exactly!” Vassago grinned, “Now you’re getting it. Imagine how much happier everyone would be? Perhaps if this was around when we were younger, we would both be happily married hmm?” Not that he wanted to be married, he rather enjoyed his freedom to go wherever and be with whomever.

“Perhaps we can find you a match cariño.” Vassago started to gather all of the profiles they had on unmatched Goetia. “Hmm I will have to find someone that makes apps. I am sure there is someone we could hire.” He pulled out his phone and started to scroll through listings.

a-hell-of-a-time

"Perhaps, or perhaps we would be where we are now." Andrealphus had long given up any hope of marriage, nor was it something he found he wanted. Of course the same was true for romantic relationships of any sort; he had learned early on that such things were not for him, and that no one would desire him in such a way, or for anything other than his body.

"I'll pass," he said, perhaps a bit more coldly than he intended. "But if you wish to find a match for yourself, fell free." He simply wished to get this assignment done so he could go about the rest of his day.

"Perhaps we could find someone who is more 'tech savvy' than we are." Though who such a being was among the goetia, he didn't know.

#helluva boss rp #icyago rp

“Ah, look, someone you can hire to build an app. That would be rather useful. I will contact them.” He sent off an email to the owner of the listing and set his phone aside.

“Well I think we did enough for one day. Reconvene tomorrow?”

Starter for: @the-starling-files

“Yes, you there. What is your question?” He gestured to Starling, the rest of the crowd going silent to hear what they had to say.

fluffy-morningstar-prince

@vassago-rp

"this bullshit stops right fucking now!" The young prince of hell entered the court growling "...they are fucking innocent....I was in wraith the day it happened!"

Vassago looked down at the prince, landing beside him on his star, “What did you see? Please tell us!”

“Ah, that is where we change the game completely! We will give them choices. I know what you are thinking, will the council go along with this? Well, I believe if we try this out and it is successful, they will have no reason to say no.”

He was determined now. Originally, Vassago had not looked forward to this assignment but this was the first chance he was given to really change things. “I see you are hesitant Andrealphus. I will take the fall should this go awry. You can blame it entirely on me.”

He was willing to stick his neck out because without risk, there would be no change and what was thr worst they would do? Remove him from the council? That would hardly be a punishment.

“Have you seen these dating apps on earth? They allow you to swipe between people you find appealing or not. What if we did something similar?”

a-hell-of-a-time

Andrealphus still had his doubts, but eventually the parrot's optimism started to reach him. He was especially reassured by Vassago's promise to take all the blame should this blow up in their faces. Knowing that the consequences for their risky venture would not fall on him, Andrealphus was more willing to go along with this plan of his.

"Alright, I will join you," he said, hoping that he wouldn't come to regret this decision.

At the mention of dating apps, Andrealphus paused. "I think Caim told me about them at one point, but I never bothered to look into it further." Actually, she had all but threatened to make him a dating profile on one of the hell based ones, or even one of the earthly ones if he was that desperate for a hookup. He had shot down her idea swiftly, of course.

"...we could, but make it exclusive to goetian royalty."

#icyago RP #helluva boss rp

A bird has to eat! I will get back to all of you in a moment! Esperame~

naughtyandnicerpmemes

Send me a scenario to my inbox that you'd like to roleplay with my muse.

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#now I know how to play him instead of just guessing haha #¡vamos a hacerlo!#Vassago #Vassago RP #helluva boss rp

song-of-baldy-ron

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE ANDREALPHUS TAIL FEATHERS OUT FOR VASSAGO LIKE A WH*RE

stolitz-nation

Stopppp you’re righttty

#helluva boss #icyago #mastermind

starter for the lovely @vassago-rp

The soft, demonic, glow of turquoise eyes reflected back at Andrealphus from the crystalline windows of his snow-covered mansion. An appreciative chirping trill hummed in his throat as he inspected his appearance — the substantial amount of time the marquis had spent preening in front of the mirror that morning had clearly paid off. There wasn’t a single feather out of place on his body. To others, his immaculate appearance was a sign of of his unconcealed vanity. Just the pompous theatrics of an attention hungry peacock. To Andrealphus, applying a delicate, subtle, swipe of eyeliner or adorning his body in luxurious silks and precious gems was the same as applying war paint and battle armour. Truth is, the bird would sooner be caught dead than poorly dressed. It was a power move. A weapon that could be weirded on the social battlefield. The icy-cold avian had found that social meetings were little more than a vicious battlefield, disguised as civility. The simple truth of the matter was that any minor misstep could damage your reputation — and there was nothing more important to most goetia than their reputation.

Thanks to his brain dead sister and her, tragically beautiful, bastard of a husband their reputation had been…on thin ice, so to speak. As the only member of his family who seemed capable of successfully utilising his intellect, it’d soon become his responsibility to oversee damage control. It was laborious. More than ever, the need to be perfect had began to weigh heavy as the diamond-encrusted tiara that sat atop his head.

The sound of the door handle squeaking softly snapped Andrealphus out of his thoughts — what an unpleasant noise. He really ought to get that damn thing replaced! The door swept open to reveal his guest of honour, Prince Vassago. The impish butler that had led the prince to the room bowed deeply before closing the door behind Vassago and fleeing to ready the tea. “Your majesty, I’m so glad you could make it~” there was a light-hearted ease within his words, the peacock bowing a little in a gesture of respect. Andrealphus then took a moment to allowed his eyes to linger on the prince’s appearance, the brilliant red feathers of the other man were vibrant against the backdrop of snow and ice. With a delicate sweep of his hand, Andrealphus gestured towards the table, two impish servants scurried to pull out chairs for both of the men, “Please, take a seat.”

Vassago had been rather surprise when he received an invitation from no other than the Marquis Andrealphus. They knew one another in passing as both worked for the council but never had they exchanged more than pleasantries and small talk. The parrot was curious and accepted the invite right away, no idea what it could possibly be about.

He arrived at the mansion, covered in ice and shuddered, as someone who preferred the warmth and humidity of Gluttony, he did not know how long he could last in such a climate. With a wave of his hand, a fur lined white coat lay across his shoulder, engulfing him in warmth and easing the cold that had already seeped into his hollow bones.

Vassago followed the imp butler, looking around at the pristine ice that surrounded them. It was not exactly his style but it was beautiful to look at. Vassago preferred his earth tones and lush green that surrounded his estate.

The parrot nearly faltered as his gaze fell upon the Marquis. He looked beautiful, not a feather out of place, adorned with Jewles and fine fabrics. A slight blush formed on his cheeks but he would just chalk it up to the cold. “Ah, Andrealphus. I was surprise by your invite.” He leant forward and kissed the peacock on both cheeks before sitting down, crossing his legs and gazing at the Marquis. “What can I do for you?”

Andrealphus managed, through the virtue of a truly ungodly number of etiquette lessons, to maintain his infallible mask of quiet calm as Vassago pressed a kiss on each of his cheeks. It was just a formal greeting. A formal greeting that he’d given and received more times than he cared to remember. And yet, the proximity of the prince, the way he could feel that infernal warmth that seemed to constantly emanate from him, the way his senses were hit by the prince’s unique, warming, scent…well, it felt different. The ice bird couldn’t quite place his talon on why that was.

The marquis arched a delicate eyebrow at the flush that had begun to bloom on the prince’s cheeks. “You’re flushed,” he pointed out, turquoise gaze lingering for a moment on Vassago’s cheeks before flickering up to his crimson eyes, “I’ll light a fire…the air has quite the bite to it at this time of year, or so I’m told - I don’t much feel it myself,”

By ‘I’ll light a fire’ Andrealphus meant that he would get one of his servants to do so — he shot an expectant look towards one of the imps, and quickly they scrambled to cross the room towards the grand, often unused, fireplace that stood within the room. In a matter of moments a fire had been stoked up, filling the room slowly but steadily with a subtle warmth.

The peacock seated himself gracefully at the table, gazing across at his royal guest while a servant poured tea into the fine porcelain cups that rested on the hardwood. Ah, yes. Down to business. “It’s rather a sensitive topic,” Andrealphus began, waving a hand elegantly over his cup and cooling it, “…as you are probably well aware, my darling sister is getting a divorce…” he picked up his teacup and saucer, brining the cup to his lips and taking a sip, “I am seeking assurance that our family can rely on your support during the court proceedings.”

So, he was caught out. That was fine, it seemed that the Marquis took his flush for lack of warmth which he eagerly went along with. It was no use outing himself like a teenager with a crush. He was a prince for Heaven’s sake! Pull yourself together Vassago!

When the fire was lit, he repressed an instinctual ruffle of his feathers as he began to feel the warmth envelope him. When he returned home, he would be soaking in the humidity like a sponge. How the peacock could live like this, he would never understand.

Vassago eagerly gripped his tea cup, both hands wrapped around it and taking a sip of the burning liquid before it had a chance to cool. This was definitely not an environment for him.

The parrot looked up at Andrealphus as he began to explain why he had even invited in the first place. Suddenly it all made sense. Vassago had pull with the council, he was a Prince and Andrealphus a Marquis. They would naturally prefer to have as much power behind them as they could get, the problem with that was, Stolas was a Prince as well and a Prince that he greatly admired.

They had all heard the rumors and the stories about his and Stella’s relationship, the horrible things she would spread about him, the way Stolas had asked for a divorce only after sleeping with an imp of all things. Everyone knew and so for Andrealphus to ask for his support, well, it was rather bold. He almost admired the other bird for having the guts to ask at all.

Vassago took another sip of his tea and set it back down before looking back at the peacock. “Andrealphus, I admire your dedication to your sister and to your family as a whole but what you are asking for…I do not know if I can provide. Nor can I say that I support how Stolas went about this but if the rumors are true, your sister has committed some reprehensible acts herself. Surly you cannot expect me to support abuse.”

As the room began to warm, the peacock allowed the cloak that was wrapped loosely around his shoulders to fall from his body — leaving him in just the flouncy ruffled shirt that he wore beneath. Andrealphus preferred to be able to feel the subtle caress of the cold on his body, especially when he needed to be alert and sharp-witted, which was precisely what he needed right now.

The marquis was acutely aware that this little negotiation was going to be anything but easy. Andrealphus wasn’t the type of fool to walk into a discussion without doing a little background research. From what he could tell, Vassago had a certain soft spot for the owl prince. It was a hurdle to overcome, but Andrealphus had never been one to shy away from a challenge.

Andrealphus had not removed his gaze from Vassago since laying his intentions out bare: he was watching intently, as though analysing each little flicker of emotions, every minute pause or frosty breath. Those minuscule movements, or lack thereof, helped piece together a picture of what the other man was thinking — or, rather, as seemed to be important for Vassago, what he was feeling.

Ah, yes. Stella was a piece of work. Brash, cruel and utterly brain-dead. In all honesty, keeping her in line was as though attempting to work with a bratty toddler. Andrealphus brought his tea-cup to his break and too a slow sip, buying himself time to decide how he wished to address the prince’s concerns — lying would probably be unwise. Vassago was an intelligent man, and probably knew the details of what had gone on between Stella and Stolas. “…I do not condone certain behaviours of my sister. She has been severely hurt by the betrayal that Stolas had dealt upon her and, in turn, I am aware she may have said some harmful things…” That was a severe downplaying of the truth, but Andrealphus wasn’t here to tell the truth: he was here to spin a pretty story for the prince to hopefully accept, “…in fact, it’s nigh impossible to have the pair of them share space without hurling vile insults at each other.”

“My main concern is my niece, Octavia,” he allowed a soft sigh to slip from his lips, “Stella and Stolas are…well, beyond repair, I think a blind man could see that” Or rather, hear it from the endless, ear-splitting, arguments. Most of which were, admittedly, led by his sister. “Our chief concern has to be supporting and protecting Octavia.”

Vassago in turn was studying the peacock before him, Andrealphus was a tricky one, always playing his cards close to the chest, also cold and calculating. The prince could only assume that the invitation to Andrealphus’ home was only a small portion of a plan he had in place, he had seen the inner workings of the Marquis during council meetings, he seemed always two steps ahead of everyone else. Which meant Vassago would have to be careful about how he tread through this conversation.

“I believe we can both agree that there were wrongdoings on both sides. Neither should have been paired with the other, it had been obvious even before their marriage.” It seemed that Andrealphus wanted to place the majority of the blame on Stolas and that was something that Vassago would never agree with.

“I admire your concern for Octavia, however she is nearly of age now. Surly, it would be up to her whom she would like to spend her time with hmm?” Why Andrealphus cared so much about custody, Vassago didn’t understand.

Stolas had claimed abuse on Stella’s end, did that mean she also inflicted the same upon her daughter? Was it only a matter of time before she turned on Octavia once she no longer had access to Stolas? There were so many unknowns and he could see that Andrealphus felt strongly about him siding with Stella but the reason why was as elusive as ever. What did Andrealphus have to gain here?

Andrealphus was a man that had been carved out of ice — taught to always remain poised, perfect and, most importantly, cold. He had been taught from a very young age that to be led by something as frivolous as feeling was pure folly. Those that wore their hearts on their sleeves were easy to manipulate, so it were far wiser to lock your heart away and operate on things like facts and logic. It left him untouchable.

That were true. Stella had detested the idea of being forced to wed the sensitive, book-loving, Prince. It was clear that she did not love him — that would never have been an issue if she were more like Andrealphus but, rather his opposite in many ways, she was incapable of silencing her heart and doing what was best for the family. “It was a dreadful match,” the peacock confirmed in a rare display of unfiltered truth, “and yet, my sister remained loyal. In spite of any lack of love towards Stolas, she stayed by his side because that was what duty dictated she do.”

“A divorce is one thing, Vassago - it is unfortunate, but I could support it. The disloyalty in his decision to cheat on my sister…the abandonment of his duty…” the peacock shook his head slowly in clear disappointment at the predicament that had been placed at his feet, “…surely, those principles mean far too much to the Goetia to simply ignore.”

It was true. Octavia was hurtling towards being of age - however, Andrealphus liked to think there was still enough time to make an impact. “Naturally, I would agree with you,” he spoke mildly, his tone airy with false ease, “…however, rumours that I have good reason to put credibility in have led me to question whether Stolas is fit to be involved in Octavia’s life at the present moment.”

Vassago was growing rather uncomfortable with the conversation rather quickly. He and Stolas were not exactly close but he would like to consider the owl a friend and hearing Andrealphus talk so lowly of him was upsetting. A near permanent frown was etched on his features, his legs crossing as he sat up higher in his chair, the cold hardly noticeable now as he grew heated in a whole other way.

“Andrealphus, I quite understand what transpired here but it seems you are determined to place sole blame on Stolas. As you suggesting that his claims against your sister of abuse are unfounded? Surly that would push anyone to seek comfort in another’s arms. Not that I am condoning an affair but surly it is understandable why he did what he did.”

Vasssago may have done worse in the situation if it were his own. He could not imagine being trapped in such a violent and loveless marriage for nearly two decades. “As for Octavia, I have it on good authority that your sister was rather hands off once she laid the egg. Do you deny that as well?”

He refused to let his friend’s name be dragged through the mud, no matter how attractive he found the bird in front of him. Surly the peacock had an ulterior motive behind it all.

As a deep frown began to sour Vassago’s handsome features, Andrealphus could not help but wonder how someone who had such high status could wear his thoughts so plainly. Idly, he supposed, that perhaps that was the luxury of those born into the highest of powers — there was no fight to be won, no plans that needed to be concealed, he outranked nearly all those he met and thus could simply give orders and watch the world form into his desires. That, or he was simply an incurable sentimentalist.

Either way, it was quite clear that Andrealphus had pushed too hard. He needed to use a more gentle touch. “Abuse is a broad term for many varied indiscretions,” he supplied with ease, playing coy as he brought his tea to his beak in order to take a slow sip, “I would need more specific details in order to confirm or deny.” Andrealphus was absolutely aware of the extent of his sister’s awful actions but he also suspected he knew more than Vassago and hardly wanted to put his foot in his mouth, so to speak.

Brilliant. Another entirely valid criticism that he would have to delicately dance around. “Might I enquire as to who this good authority is?” Andrealphus would love to know the identity of whatever bastard had been spreading information that could damage their position. This was all fucking ridiculous. Once the shitty divorce was over he was going to take a vacation somewhere where no one could piss him off.

“No. I do not deny it, my Prince,” he agreed gracefully, his words gentle and calm, “I’ll be the first to admit that my sister had a difficult time after giving birth.” The marquis placed his tea-cup back into the saucer, leaning forward against the hardwood table little in order to signify that he was giving Vassago his full, undivided, attention. “It was not Stolas’ fault, but Stella did not love him yet knew perfectly well that her duty had been to give birth…naturally, there was resentment. Towards Stolas. Towards her position. Towards our family for marrying her off. Towards motherhood…that is to say, she had complex feelings towards Octavia,” he allowed a small pause, “Years have passed, Vassago. Stella has grown. I do not doubt that Stolas is a wonderful father, but to claim that my sister has not been there for her daughter would be untrue.”

“You may not enquire.” Vassago stated with finality. In truth, he was becoming rather annoyed at the peacock for constantly dancing around it all, as if they were not discussing a life altering decision for all involved. Why was Andrealphus so determined to get Vassago on his side in the first place? What did he have up his sleeve?

“Andrealphus,” He hardly held in a long suffering sigh of annoyance, “As far as I am concerned, this is matter between Stolas and Stella, I am not here to pass judgment until I have heard all of the facts. It is a fools errand to make such a decision when I have not spoken to the two involved.”

Vassago drank the rest of his tea and stood, he was feeling rather fed up with it all, a permanent scowl etched on his face. “Your motives are suspect. It is known that you wish to rise above your station, Andrealphus, however this is not the ploy you think it is. Whatever *plan* you have in place to ride on your sisters coat tails, to *take* from Stolas which is not rightfully yours,” He shook his head, adjusting the coat on his shoulders. “I will not abide by it.”

He was ready to go, to flee the oppressive cold that seemed to only increase as he pushed Andrealphus. “I believe you have forgotten where you stand *Marquis Andrealphus.* You have asked me here today to take a stance against a fellow Prince of Hell. A man who could rightfully command you. Now, I am not one to force others into submission but I strongly encourage you to rethink whatever *plan* you have. I have the most pull over the council between us, I would step lightly if I were you.” His arms were crossed as he stared down at the peacock.

The snowy peacock was not used to people speaking so firmly to him. Usually people would either join the senseless song and dance that he performed, words thick with double meaning and hidden ploys, or they would simply be completely oblivious to whatever schemes he was playing. It was exceptionally rare for someone to both notice the full extent of his motives and actually address it to his face. Andrealphus allowed his jaw to clench tightly shut, bowing his head a little and staring off at the floor while he allowed the Prince to assert his station above him — he looked tense. Granted, his posture was always rigid as stone, but this was something less rehearsed and more instinctive. Less grandiose and more like he wished to curl into a ball and hide. He felt small. Memories dancing across his mind of the endless occasions he were scolded by his mother as a young peachick. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

If you told anyone about what happened in the room next, they would likely laugh and call you a liar. Andrealphus would, no doubt, absolutely deny it too. However, the infamously arrogant marquis stood up from his chair and physically took the knee in front of Vassago. A delicate hand came to rest over his chest as he completed the deep bow — a mark of respect and submission that he hoped would be accepted. “Please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies, Prince Vassago” he managed to, more or less, speak the words without faltering, in spire of the massive knock to his ego, “…in my desperation to aid my sister, I have allowed myself to lose sight of my position.”

There was a redness to his cheeks that burned in the cold of the room. For Andrealphus, this was a monumentally humbling act, but it would be far worse for him if the Prince were to storm out of his mansion angry and with a poor opinion of him. Andrealphus raised his turquoise gaze from the floor to look up at the prince, “If you would do me the honour of giving me a second chance,” he paused for a moment, “I am certain there are far less troubling topics of conversation that I could entertain you with.” It defeated the whole purpose of why he’d invited Vassago in the first place, but he was desperately keen to amend his mistake.

Vassago’s bravado nearly faltered as he gazed down at the Marquis as he knelt before the parrot. Never in all of his year, would he have expected Andrealphus to fold, to submit. If he were honest, it rather inflated his ego as he towered above.

“Enough.” Vassago waved Andrealphus away, “Rise.” He did not particularly like being bowed before but he recognized it for what it was. Andrealphus was apologizing. When the Marquis stood once again, Vassago placed a hand on his cold shoulder. “You are forgiven and I will entertain the request. However, I do ask that we go elsewhere. While your home is quite beautiful, I am afraid my feathers will begin to freeze and shed against their will.” He shuddered lightly.

“Come, shall we get an early lunch?” Vassago opened a portal, not taking no for an answer as they were let out into Lust. It was raining lightly but Vassago considered it was a good compromise as far as temperatures went. Vassago led them into a restaurant called Eros where they were greeted with a bow by the hostess and immediately shown to a table in a more private area in the back of the restaurant.

“Please, order whatever you like, their food is quite delicious.” He grabbed the wine menu, “Is it too early for a drink?” Satan, he needed one after that conversation with the peacock.

Andrealphus had decided that he rather liked Eros; there was a warm and inviting atmosphere that had been created by the low, yet purposeful, lighting. Due to the virtue of the staff clearing knowing Vassago, and his lofty status, the Goetia had managed to bypass any unnecessary attention — which, although it might surprise those that deemed the peacock desperate for constant attention, pleased Andrealphus greatly.

The menu had all manner of delicious options that sparked interest in Andrealphus. However, a loyal lover of fish since childhood, it did not take him long to select the tuna steak, which he opted to pair with a Pinot Noir. When the drinks arrived, he swept the glass into his hand and took a slow sip. A soft sound somewhere between a coo and a hum resonated in his throat at the taste. It was delicious. The finest wine he’d had in a while. “Divine~” he mused, seemingly melting a little into his chair as he grew more comfortable around the Prince.

Andrealphus’ eyes widened subtly at Vassago’s words, a glimmer of surprise flickering through his eyes for a moment before he schooled his expression once more into one of practiced ease. He straightened his posture a little, sitting up straighter in his chair. This was all highly irregular. People did not care what Andrealphus did in his own time — in fact, he suspected they thought he did nothing. Just brooded and plotted evil schemes, perhaps. The real question was: what did the prince seek to gain by getting familiar with him? was there some kind of ulterior motive? No. Probably not, the prince was just seeking material for small talk. “Unfortunately, I was born with an extremely rare condition that makes me deathly allergic to fun,” he noted in an utterly deadpan manner, in spite of his words being an obvious joke. “I play the piano,” he then confided after a moment, supposing he would give the fuel for small talk, “…and I paint.”

Vassago couldn’t help himself as he laughed at Andrealphus’ joke. It was loud and boisterous and he quickly tried to school his features but there was a grin etched into his features that didn’t seem to want to leave. So the peacock was funny! Well, this was a surprise.

“Oh? The piano is a rather lovely instrument, have you been playing long? What do you paint?” He was genuinely interested, leaning forward a bit as he crossed his legs under the table, hand grasped around his wine glass. His attention was zeroed in on the other bird, unwavering.

There was something so alluring about the facade that Andrealphus presented to the world. He could see the little cracks underneath that shown another man altogether and he was eager to pry those pieces apart. Did Andrealphus even have friends? He couldn’t recall a time he had seen the Marquis about with other Goetia unless it was council talk. Well, surly he could change that.

There was a look of genuine, unmasked, surprise within Andrealphus’ eyes as the Prince laughed at his words. It wasn’t one of those polite, manufactures, laughs that were so commonly traded between Goetia — It was genuine.

It was, admittedly, unnerving to have so much of Vassago’s attention unwaveringly on him. It wasn’t that the peacock wasn’t accustomed to attention. Rather the contrary, Andrealphus was proud of his ability to turn heads by merely gliding into a room. However, that attention was superficial, an appreciation of beauty that cared not to unravel the man behind the icy gaze. Vassago had this uncanny ability to see more than what Andrealphus was trying to project.

“…since I was a old enough to reach the keys,” he noted after a brief moment of silence, unable and unwilling to place a specific number of years to his statement. He’d been sat at a piano for as long as he could remember — his mother had insisted in him being trained in all manner of attractive skills. Which would have been pleasant had these lessons not also come with the crushing weight of being the best in everything he set his mind to. “Mother insisted I learn and it stuck with me, I suppose…I see music much like mathematics,” he explained, “…there is a code, a secret language of symbols to crack, and there are processes that must be followed in order to achieve success…only, with music, there is a pleasant sound when you get the answer correct.”

“All manner of things,” was the simple reply that Andrealphus offered regarding his painting. Truth be told, there wasn’t a lot of could say without bearing too much of himself — To Andrealphus, painting was almost a rebellious act. He was a terrible painter. Always had been. The freeing feeling of doing something, knowing it was imperfect, but doing it all the same. It was almost as soothing as the repetitive stoke of paintbrush against canvas.

“But tell me, Vassago” he began in an attempt to steer the conversation firmly away from himself, “What do you do for fun?”

Vassago’s attention was trained on the peacock before him, listening to every word as if Andrealphus spoke the most beautiful of poetry. “Fascinating. I quite enjoy music myself but I am afraid I never learned how to play an instrument. However, I can appreciate the dedication and passion you must attribute. I would be honored to hear you play some day.”

The Marquis was already starting to open up a bit and it thrilled Vassago to no end. He was determined to get to know the glacial avian.

“Me? Oh, I hardly have any free time myself but I do quite enjoy food.” Speaking of, their meals were placed before them, Vassago eagerly digging into his risotto. “I actually quite enjoy the art of cooking believe it or not. I know it is rather unheard of for a Goetia to slave away in a kitchen but I have come to find quite a lot of joy in it.”

Any time he ventured topside to the human realm, he always found local markets, finding out new recipes and cuisines he had never tried before. He was constantly trying new restaurants that opened up in Hell, even if that meant dining alone.

“The honour would be mine, your highness,” the words were pleasant and polite, but given so easily under the assumption that the Prince was merely being equally pleasant and didn’t hold any genuine intent behind his words. After all, Vassago had endlessly more important things to be doing than listening to him play the piano. “I have a grand piano in my home, but I fear that you may not be able to hear the music over the chattering of your beak,” It had been very clear that they were accustomed to different climates.

Andrealphus was thankful when the waiters arrived with their food. Partially, because it swept the intense gaze of the prince off him and onto his risotto, but also, partly because it provided Andrealphus with a focus that was outside of answering the questions levelled to him in a manner that was acceptable. Grasping the silvered utensils with elegance, he slowly began to cut into his food, all the while idly paying attention to what the prince was saying.

Food was a worthwhile hobby. Fine-dining was enjoyable and, as evidenced by their current surroundings, there were social benefits to knowing the best spots for an impromptu lunch. Andrealphus had just brought a fork towards his beak when he paused, letting to drop down to his plate once more. “…cooking?” he repeated the word as though it were foreign to him, eyebrows furrowed deeply in a look of shock that he’d not successfully managed to hide. “…that is rather unheard of.”

Vassago was full of shocking surprises and contradictions. As far as he was concerned, most Goetia would rather be caught dead than in the kitchen — the peacock himself certainly fell into that category. Andrealphus began to wonder, belatedly, if he had the measure of the prince at all. “Is it not laborious?…and, well…messy?”

Vassago chuckled once again, Andrealphus was surprisingly funny, though he was unsure if it was intentional or not. “I do not know how you live in that frozen tundra of yours. I dare say, if I were to ever be invited again, I would have to use a warming spell on all of my clothing.”

He sipped his wine and considered the bird before him before continuing, “If your offer is sincere, I would quite like to hear you play. I quite enjoy live music. I am sure you are quite talented.” He could tell Andrealphus was never the type to half-ass anything.

“Yes, cooking.” He laughed at the surprised look on the Marquis’ face. “I know, I know. It is rather unconventional and yes it can be quite the messy affair but to me, it is like art, like science! An experiment if you will. Then you reap the rewards after-a delicious meal. You would do well to have a bit of labor in your life.” He raised an eyebrow down at the peacock, “Surly you are not above laborers. They are what keep Hell running!”

Vassago never appreciated how the Goetia found themselves to be superior to other Hellborn. As far as he was concerned, all beings in Hell deserved respect and gratitude if they contributed to society. Though that seemed to be a rare opinion to have amongst his kind.

There was a small huff of amusement that slipped from Andrealphus’ beak. Subtle and understated, it was easy to miss. What was more obvious was the glimmer of genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. “It suits my tastes perfectly~” he hummed out, idly bringing a finger to run across the rim of his wine glass, leaving a frost in it’s wake — he then took a slow sip.

Andrealphus raised a delicate eyebrow upwards, gazing across at Vassago with a momentary look of disbelief as the Prince confirmed that his desire to hear him play piano was, in fact, entirely sincere. The compliment, paired with the sincerity, caused Andrealphus to melt a little. Much to his horror, he could feel a heat rising to his cheeks. It was ridiculous! He received endless compliments, why was this different? “I am exceptionally skilled,” the marquis agreed, never one to downplay his prowess. “I’m not convinced talent has much hand in things though…simply training.”

The very thought of getting food stuck within his talons or between his feathers sent a cold shiver down his spine, it translated onto his face quite plainly. The logic was perfectly sound, similar to his love of piano — but piano was a respectable hobby that befitted a Goetia. “I prefer the labours of the mind,” the peacock responded with ease, his turquoise gaze locked on Vassago’s face as though attempting to read some kind of joke. There was none. As usual, he was being sincere. What a puzzle of a man. How could a Goetian prince view himself upon the same level as common labourers? Andrealphus sensed that he needed to step carefully in order not to offend the Prince.

“It is my belief that we all keep Hell running,” the words slipped slowly from Andrealphus’ lips, his eyes firmly locked on the Prince so that he could assess any reaction, “…as with a piece of machinery, all the little pieces play their part and have their use — however, some of those pieces are larger, more significant and harder to replace” It wasn’t prejudiced, it was simply a fact! Lowly imps had their use in doing things that Andrealphus didn’t want to do himself (like cook his food), however, they were easily replacable. If Vassago disappeared tomorrow then the world would tip out of balance. The lower you moved down the social hierarchy, the less you mattered. Andrealphus was acutely aware of how much less he mattered than people such as Vassago.

“You are quite the contradiction.” Vassago pointed out. The Marquis could be quite humble at times but vain in others, it kept him on his toes, never knowing what Andrealphus could possibly say next. He was like a puzzle, a thread to unravel-stimulating.

Vassago would have to disagree with the peacock however, as far as Hellborn went. “We all have our roles to play in society my dear. Whether you are a prince like myself or a grocer. One is not more important than the other. My job is not so difficult, in fact I believe the lowliest imp in all seven rings could do it. Now, could I serve as a ranch hand or repair the sewers? Lucifer forbid, I could not.”

The prince only hoped that he could get his point across, that they were a privileged few who had life much easier than most and they were just as replaceable as the imp waiter that brought them their meals. “Were I to perish tomorrow, my station would only be passed on to the next generation. Granted, I do not have an heir of my own however that seat could easily be filled or removed altogether. I think you will find that we are all terribly equal.”

“How so?” Andrealphus asked directly, his head cocked to the side a little as he gazed, questioningly across at Vassago. Andrealphus suspected that he already knew the answer — he was faltering. It were as though two halves of himself were warring. There was the usual side of him that flaunted his beauty and talent, desperate for praise and attention. Then there was whatever this shit show was. It was all Vassago’s fault, he decided bitterly. It was his sincerity that left the marquis wanting to deflect all conversation about himself. The stakes seemed too high…as though, if he were to indulge himself in the praise, he might show something far too genuine in response.

“…you truly believe a grocer to be equal in importance to a prince…?” he uttered the words as though barely believing that he had heard them properly in the first place. A genuine scoff slipped from Andrealphus’ beak, his head shaking a little at the sheer ridiculousness of what the Prince was saying. The simple truth was: a lowly imp would not survive 5 minutes in the tumultuous political landscape of the Ars Goetia — although, he was sure it would be entertaining to watch one try~ “You downplay your own contributions and talents, your highness,” the words slipped from his beak like a soft purr, a measured smile decorating his features. “I cannot speak for your childhood, but I, myself, have spent my entire life being prepared for my duties to the council,” he paused for a moment, “It is a lofty duty, and one that our kind have endless years of expertise within,” To think that someone could simply step in and perform the role was preposterous in Andrealphus’ eyes.

This, bizarrely, felt far more natural to Andrealphus. The two rarely saw eye to eye on topics such as this, but at least he felt more akin to the cold, level-headed, diplomat that debated within the council — not some flustered idiot that was so terrified of being authentically seen by the handsome man in front of him that he stopped functioning properly. “Ah, I see…so we are all equally replaceable…” he mused, “That’s not a very comforting thought, Vassago, makes me feel rather redundant.” After all, if Andrealphus’ life was measured entirely by his work. If died tomorrow and they held no struggle in replacing him then…well, what was his worth?

“How?” Vassago repeated, chuckling to himself as he studied the marquis over his wine glass. “I think it quite obvious. You flaunt your status, quick to correct any falsity, yet you yourself are never satisfied. How do I know this, you may be asking? I was once like you my dear. I was once a young man who had the entirety of the world before him and I felt the need to conquer it all but you will come to find that power, prestige, it is not a worthwhile pursuit. It is all so finite, ephemeral.”

Vassago finished off his risotto and set aside his plate, taking his time to continue on. He quite enjoyed making the Marquis wait. “It is true that we spend our childhoods in preparation for these roles but you could not convinced me for one second that if an imp were raised to serve in the court from birth, that they would not be equally capable of doing the job. All this to say, we are not quite as important as one would believe.”

“Yes, we are equally replaceable. I find it rather comforting. Have you listened to Stolas talk about the stars? How small our existence is in the vast multitude that is our universe. We may outlive earth but we are not immune to death. One day this will all end and our petty grievances, the small insignificant problems that we face day to day, will mean nothing. I find that rather comforting. When I am overwhelmed by the minutia of my day, I can sit back and remember, one day none of this will matter.”

“I-I…That’s not..I—” the words of protest, so quick to try and claw their way up his throat, died a quick death as he realised he had utterly no idea what to say. Vassago was unequivocally and whole-heartedly correct in his assessment of Andrealphus. For the first time in a long time, it felt as though someone was seeing him without all of the posturing and pretence. It was mortifying, the way it left him feeling vulnerable — but perhaps worse, were the lingering feelings of something more warm, fluttering and perhaps hopeful. Those feelings had no name, or at least, so as far as Andrealphus was able to give them. They felt entirely foreign. “and I suppose you’ll be telling me the true greatest pursuit in life is..? what?” he squinted a little at the Prince, his words carrying their usual haughtiness despite his genuine want to know Vassago’s thoughts, “..knowledge? pleasure? family? love?”

Andrealphus had never liked being made to wait. There was a tension in his jaw as he gazed, unfalteringly, at the Prince, his meal long forgotten. The sound of one of his boots tapping impatiently against the floor could be heard. “An interesting hypothetical, indeed” he mused as Vassago finally spoke once more, deciding to take a bite or two more of his food before setting it aside, “I suppose we will never know, will we?” There was no way that there would ever be a situation where an imp would be placed, in any capacity, within the council — or the wider Ars Goetia family, for that matter.

Opposites, indeed. Andrealphus wondered if there were anything that they actually saw eye to eye on. It made for a stimulating conversation, that was for sure. “I regret to inform you that Stolas and I are not on speaking terms” the words were short, matter-of-fact and just a tiny bit irritated. ‘Nor will be ever be,’ he wanted to add. Why? Andrealphus wasn’t entirely sure. It had been clear, since their earlier conversation, that Vassago thought very highly of Stolas. It didn’t sit well with him, and not just because of the divorce. “We are clearly very different men, Vassago. I take no comfort in the thought that my life’s work is insignificant and meaningless.”

Vassago let out a boisterous laugh as he eyes the Marquis who seemed to flounder at his assessment. “I do not believe there is a single great pursuit. Your purpose is entirely different from my own. What brings us joy, what fulfils us, that is our purpose. Sure, some it may be love, others family, but I do not believe that we all require the same type of love or the same type of family. I do hope for your sake Andrealphus, that you are happy, that you find joy, that you are fulfilled. No one wants to live life with regrets.”

The prince couldn’t help the smug look on his face as he saw how impatient the peacock became as he took his time. That was something else the Marquis would need to learn, patience. “Ah, I would never say never my friend. Between Asmodeus and Stolas, I do believe change is on the horizon between Goetia and imps.”

Vassago shrugged as Andrealphus noted their differences, after all, that was what made the conversation stimulating. “How unfortunate that you two are at such odds. That must make things rather difficult for Octavia. I have heard she stays often with you and Stella.”

A pink-hued blush arose on his cheeks at the unrestrained, and utterly undignified, bout of laughter. His arms moved to cross themselves stiffly, and defensively, across his chest. “I really do not see what you find so amusing, Vassago.” there was an icy abrasiveness in his words. Andrealphus was never slow to taking offence, especially when he felt he was being made fun of. The marquis had settled a piercing look on the Prince now, much akin to when he was debating someone in the council — cold, analytical and probably mildly unnerving. “Ah, I see, the pursuit of happiness…” he repeated the sentiment, “You propose that the presence of fulfilment marks a pursuit as worthwhile yet you claim that power is a pursuit of no value. I fail to see how that denotes power and status as anything other than pursuits that you, personally, find meaningless…” Which, considering he was born with the highest possible power and status, makes perfect sense. It was rare to covet what you already have.

Ah yes, Asmodeus, the other member of Goetian royalty that had decided to make a mockery of their entire class. The situation did unsettle Andrealphus — Stolas would have been enough of an issue by himself, but with a deadly sin like Asmodeus entering the picture things became increasingly more bleak. “It is true that recent events have been…” he paused to conjure the right word, “destabilising…however, it is my belief that tradition wins out in the end.” Or, at least, that’s what he told himself to soothe his nerves surrounding the issue. “We’ve operated in one way for millennia to great success, it would be a foolish move push for change where it is not needed.”

The peacock allowed his brow to furrow a little at the mention of Octavia. The poor girl had been spending the majority of the time with he and his sister, who was doing her utmost to poison the girl’s opinions on her father. “She does…” he stated with ease, “I speak to the man enough to ensure her visits are organised properly. Surely, that is all that is needed,”

#helluva boss rp #icyago rp

Vassago sighed as the Marquis seemed to miss his point entirely, he was a stubborn one to be sure. Well, he was not there to change the peacocks mind, rather give him some things to think about, to reconsider. He had to start somewhere, Goetia were far too stuck in their ways and the cracks were starting to widen. They better get used to it now before it all fell apart and they were left floundering. “I see we are at an impasse. That is fine, I do not expect you to understand what you cannot see.” He waved off the subject, draining the last of his wine glass.

He understood now that perhaps Andrealphus was not someone who he could have on his side should it all come crashing down. There was change in the air, Vassago could see it clear as day yet the man before him seemed in denial. “Change is inevitable my dear. I suppose we shall see where the chips lay in time.” He was cryptic, as if Vassago knew something that Andrealphus did not.

“Shall we?” He gestured to the exit. “Thank you for having lunch with me Andrealphus. It has been, quite enlightening. I do hope we can dine again.” They made their way out front and Vassago opened a portal back to Andrealphus’ home. He stepped inside with the peacock before taking his hand and placing a kiss upon in while maintaining eye contact. “I will see you at council. Have a good night Andrealphus.” Vassago opened a portal back to Gluttony, winking at the peacock before the portal closed behind him.

starter for the lovely @vassago-rp

Vassago eagerly gripped his tea cup, both hands wrapped around it and taking a sip of the burning liquid before it had a chance to cool. This was definitely not an environment for him.

He refused to let his friend’s name be dragged through the mud, no matter how attractive he found the bird in front of him. Surly the peacock had an ulterior motive behind it all.

“Please, order whatever you like, their food is quite delicious.” He grabbed the wine menu, “Is it too early for a drink?” Satan, he needed one after that conversation with the peacock.

“But tell me, Vassago” he began in an attempt to steer the conversation firmly away from himself, “What do you do for fun?”