Hell's Better Than Gunsmoke - Elendira/Knives/Legato - R
Title: Hell's Better than Gunsmoke
Rating: R for violence and cussing
Fandom/Pairing: Trigun Maximum; Knives+Legato+Elendira?
Word Count: 2,687 (wtf is wrong with me?)
Summary: Elendira, Legato, and Knives go to Hell.
Disclaimer: Nightow-sama has the ultimate word on all things involving these characters. I am a dirty plagairist and copyright infringer. ;-;
Warnings: Spoilers. Decapitation. Bastardization of Paradise Lost for my own entertainment. Lawn chairs and alcoholic drinks. And oh yeah, TOTAL CRACK THAT TAKES ITSELF WAY TOO SERIOUSLY. Catholicism has done me no good.
"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n."
- Satan, Paradise Lost, John Milton
"Where do bad folks go when they die? They don't go to heaven, where the angels fly. They go to a lake of fire and fry."
- Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash
She’d never been baptized. She didn’t buy into all the demons and angels shit. But it was still kind of funny that she wound up in Hell. Of course the first thing she did was find Livio. And shoot him in the face. A couple of times. It was funnier when it didn’t kill him, she was certain of it. She doesn’t really remember what she was going to do after that, because there were… well, demons and then.
Well, she should have seen that one coming as well.
Somehow trash and lakes of fire weren’t that much worse than Gunsmoke’s average habitable state. And Legato definitely got a kick out of the tortures of the damned. Most likely they were meant to be tortured, but if that’s what the demons were trying to do they pretty much failed.
About the time they were conspiring with all their old “associates” to get out or take over someone made a plea-bargain. Most likely the only reason that it was accepted was because, well fuck them sideways, Satan was hot.
No. Really, really, really hot. And familiar looking. Of course they had the unpleasant experience of finding out the giant, well, he said “serpent” but they thought “sand worm” that was pretty much omnipresent in this place was also this drop dead gorgeous creature with tired, sharp eyes and wild long hair and legs up to, well, heaven.
And the wings, the wings were definitely something.
Anyways, Hell was a pitiable place, but so was Gunsmoke. Hell definitely had prettier architecture and such access to, well, everything and everyone. Legato got to meet Stalin; Elendira got to meet Bonnie Parker. Mostly they were left alone though.
They got lawn chairs. And an umbrella.
Life was good. Until half way through her really tiny piña colada Legato would hit the bottom of his slurppie where there was nothing but syrup and he’d turned the straw around and suck from the spoon end and… That sound just pissed her off.
They’d been quick to abandon all the people they’d gathered to try and take over as soon as the plea agreement was made. Sometimes they still saw some of them, angry and tormented. They usually shared a good laugh. Legato liked to kill them, liked to sometimes go hunt down people he’d known and just kill them over and over again in gruesome horrific ways. Elendira didn’t get the joy in it, but she did appreciate the credit it earned them amongst the fallen angels.
Angels, these angels at least, as it turned out weren’t big fans of humanity. Funny thing was that, neither were Legato and Elendira. They got on smashingly.
They were sitting on the upper balcony of the palace they’d been given under their sweet beach umbrella working on the day’s sugary drinks, when off in the distance there was a massive explosion.
They looked at each other for a moment. Elendira shrugged. Legato looked down at his half finished slurppie. They got up and in a moment where at ground zero for the destruction.
It was a tiny, tiny chance, but a worthwhile one. Because, of course, it paid off in the end.
“You,” Knives hissed at one or both of them from the center of his own personal crater. He took two shots at them, Elendira dodged but unfortunately Legato didn’t. He keeled over, his body flying back just slightly. Demons and fallen who were quickly coming back to their sense were shocked and horrified, especially some of the newer ones who’d stupidly assumed he was one of them. Elendira made motions like she was checking a watch she didn’t have. Knives laughed and it almost made her… what? Angry? But it didn’t really matter.
“You are going to look so stupid in a second,” she whispered to herself. Sure enough, she watched his face reform and the blood disappear from his hair and the ground. He yawned and stretched and took it all well in stride.
Now, they’d both seen Knives make a lot of priceless faces in their lifetimes, but the one at that moment surpassed everything in the history of ever. Elendira fell on her ass laughing and kept on laughing even when Legato kicked her in the ribs.
“I.” Legato’s talking made Elendira stop laughing. It wasn’t really something he did much of lately and when he did he usually didn’t say anything nearly as retarded as he used to.
“I never expected to see you again,” he stuttered out. Elendira gagged. Hell, Knives gagged. Elendira looked over.
“Stop crying you little freak,” she admonished. It didn’t do much. He cried harder even. Fell to the ground and just sobbed. It was pathetic.
“Seriously,” she spat. “Fucking quit it.” Knives had that look about him as if he was somewhere between confused and very amused. If Legato didn’t stop bawling or Knives laughed, Elendira was not going to be held responsible for her actions.
The moment passed. Knives didn’t laugh, but Legato also didn’t stop crying. The demon horde shifted uncomfortably.
“Are you okay?” she finally asked. As soon as it was out the ground split open and up rose the eternal worm, who momentarily morphed into the gargantuan prince who towered over his lake of fire.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded.
“Oh, that’s eloquent,” Elendira said. “Don’t you think you could have come a moment earlier?” She could feel him staring her down.
“And who the fuck are you?!” Knives shouted upwards.
“Oh fuck,” Elendira buried her face in her hands and wondered if because it was Hell if she reverse-psychologied the ground would it really suck her in and under?
Satan shrank until he was exactly six feet and ten inches. Elendira watched him give Knives a once over.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“You know Legato, I vaguely remember them both being much more eloquent and refined than this,” Elendira whispered to her companion. Her companion sniffled wetly. She’d take that as agreeing.
“Don’t,” Legato said suddenly, eyes blank and a little crazy.
“Don’t what?” Elendira questioned.
Satan turned to both of them. He looked at Elendira in a way that made her feel naked and attractive and intelligent and yet horribly wrong all at the same time. Then he looked at Legato.
“I understand,” the archfiend said. “I would expect no less from one of such great loyalty.” And the serpent dove back beneath the ground of Hell.
“What was that?!” Knives demanded. Elendira looked at Legato, he was pulling himself up and almost, but not quite smiling.
“We are in possession of a palace currently,” Legato said, letting his hair fall over his face. Elendira just wanted to yank his head up and push it out of the way. He’d been getting better about that kind of shit. She’d almost kind of started to like him.
As if he had any idea where this palace was, which he didn’t, Knives led the way. Elendira, if she’d had a gun, would have shot him in the head and then tossed it in the mire and pretended it wasn’t her. There was certainly a lot of hate coming from humans and demons and the serpentine fallen around them. But Legato was behind her and anyways, he’d know and he’d be hurt and she’d fucking feel bad.
Mostly they didn’t see Knives, but they sure as Hell heard him. It was even wearing on Legato, Elendira could see it. He wasn’t slurping the bottoms of his slushies up anymore. She never thought she’d miss that horrible sound, but she did.
Demons still came by and Legato still went out with them and Elendira followed, but the both felt nervous about what they’d find when they went back. Then one day no demons came, not even the tiniest member of Legion or the cynical fallen who came for the conversation sometimes. No one.
Elendira knew something was happening. There was no drinking on the balcony, Legato shut the curtains and they both sat in the dark and listened to Knives’ rants and the sounds of Hell.
“What are we waiting for?” she asked again and again, but he wouldn’t answer. The sound of someone knocking on their door was so sudden and sharp it was painful. Legato rose and went to answer it. Elendira tagged along in the shadows, curious.
The serpent at the door was HUGE, and quickly took on the form of one of the beautiful fallen. Without speaking Legato followed whoever the fuck it was out the door and shut the huge iron things in her face as she tried to sneak out behind him.
She couldn’t get up the stairs to the balcony fast enough and search the landscape as she might she couldn’t find either Legato or the fallen.
Had he finally grown a brain and left them? Was he just that sick of Knives shit? No. What was he planning? He had to be up to something. He was always up to something! Because he was a creepy little freak who needed a better goddamn hobby.
She had to spend the time listening to Knives stomp around angrily floors above her head. Eventually, during the night, Legato came back. He was holding most of his clothes in a bundle against his chest and he was all kinds of messed up. He smiled at her and his gums were all covered in blood. Her mind had trouble accepting this.
People in hell didn’t--they didn’t stay injured. Unless. Unless they were tortured.
“What the fuck happened,” she said as coldly as she’d ever said anything to him. He looked at her and laughed.
“Did you know when this place was created, they held a parliament here? Hell is a democracy, really, Elendira. There is a certain freedom of ideas in this place. If you make the proper sacrifices, Elendira, people will listen to you,” Legato said. Elendira could only stare at him.
“You know, for a while there before he came you were actually making some goddamn sense,” she answered after a while. He shrugged it off and headed for the stairs. He had to grip the handrail and she could see that all his knuckles were swollen and one of his fingernails was just gone. She followed him up the stairs, not caring whether he noticed or cared. They went straight to the attic.
On some level she’d hoped they’d never ever come up and confront Knives. Of course she wanted to tell him to shove it, and where and what ‘it’ was, but she was still very aware of how badly he could mess her up.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Knives demanded, but not of her. She might as well have not been in the building. “You piece of shit.”
He unwound his coat from the lump he’d made of it, having to hold the chains and spikes against his bare skin. Then his shirt, but she couldn’t see what was inside. Till he lifted them up from where he was on his knees and held them up till they caught the light of the undying flames outside.
“Pinot noir,” Legato said simply. For a moment everyone was quiet. If Elendira could have stood drawing attention to herself she would have insulted him.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Knives sounded pissed off, as usual. “You’ve brought me wine and your usual melodrama. You’re so annoying.” The blade that shot out was small, relatively speaking, but sudden and terrifying. Legato’s head knocked into the wall across the way, his body fell to the side limply. In a moment Legato’s eyes were open and confused. From that angle Elendira guessed he could probably see down his own throat.
“What the fuck was that?!” she demanded. Fuck this silent bystander shit. It’s not like anything Knives did would kill her. Amazingly, he didn’t immediately disembowel her.
“What did it look like?” he asked instead, getting up and retrieving the bottle of wine and single glass from the ground.
“Like you just cut his head off because he brought you a gift,” she said as bluntly as he could.
“I don’t need or want anything from him anymore,” Knives explained. “Anyways, we both know he’ll be just fine. He always is.”
“You fucking overgrown battery,” Elendira spit out before she even had the sense to realize it. The only reason she didn’t die is because at that moment the fallen, the one who’d taken Legato away that morning, materialized in the room.
“He forgot these,” the fallen explained, holding two extra wine glasses crossed in one hand.
“Ah, it appears I’ve interrupted something,” the fallen said with a sardonic little laugh. He looked around. Walking over to Legato’s severed head he kicked it lightly in the direction of the body. Legato’s arms both reached out blindly and grabbed it. He shuffled around a bit before he finally put his head back in place. It sealed back with a wet slurp. Elendira felt like she was going to be sick.
“Beelzebub, this is quite unnecessary,” was the first thing that Legato said.
“Reacquainting you with your own head seemed quite necessary, really,” the fallen replied with a wry grin.
“You must be his master,” Beelzebub said, turning to Knives. “Well let’s have a look at you.”
The fallen grabbed him by the chin and indeed, turned his head this way and that scrutinizing him.
“Don’t touch me,” Knives spat, but it went ignored.
“My prince is a million times anything that you are. Galaxies implode upon his thoughts. Man will suffer forever, because of him. In comparison, you are nothing. Bluesummers could have bowed to that power and taken part of it as we do, but he chooses a piece of mortal trash like you instead. I do not know what he has sworn himself to within you, but his loyalty certainly outshines your worth.” Finally the fallen let him go.
“For the thrones’ sake, we would have given you to him if he’d become a demon. What’s one less inmate in a prison like this?”
And the fallen was gone.
“I apologize for Beelzebub’s actions. They are his own, but they were uncalled for,” Legato bowed his head and stood. Elendira could really only describe what he did next has highly dignified fleeing.
Knives sliced the top off the bottle and poured a glass until it was overflowing. He didn’t look… well.
Elendira didn’t run into Legato on her way to her opulent room and that was fine by her. She slept poorly as ever.
In the morning she opened the balcony curtains and set out their lawn chairs and their umbrella. No noise came from the attic and it took a few hours to find Legato in one of the basement dungeons. She dragged him upstairs, sat him down on his lawn chair, and put his stupid slurppie in his hand. Then she went to pour the ready made piña colada into her nice little coconut shell cup and snag one of the infinite number of tiny drink umbrellas that was a part of their agreement with the powers that be. It was quiet, expect for the screams of the damned.
Around midday they realized that Knives wasn’t having a fit above their heads. Mostly because he showed up right behind them.
“Your faith is shit to me,” he said, sounding tired. Elendira kept the catty comment about conversation starters to herself.
“I know,” Legato replied. Elendira looked over at him. Today he had a black eye and it stared thoughtfully into his mostly melted slurppie.
“So what’s with the lawn chairs?” he asked when the awkward moment had passed.
“Third closet on your left, top shelf,” Elendira pointed behind her and readjusted her sunglasses. In a minute they were all three stretched out on the balcony with drinks in hand, staring out at the torture and firepits below.
“Do you have to slurp it like that?”
“No Master, I’ll not do it again.”
Elendira laughed into her straw.
Rating: R for violence and cussing
Fandom/Pairing: Trigun Maximum; Knives+Legato+Elendira?
Word Count: 2,687 (wtf is wrong with me?)
Summary: Elendira, Legato, and Knives go to Hell.
Disclaimer: Nightow-sama has the ultimate word on all things involving these characters. I am a dirty plagairist and copyright infringer. ;-;
Warnings: Spoilers. Decapitation. Bastardization of Paradise Lost for my own entertainment. Lawn chairs and alcoholic drinks. And oh yeah, TOTAL CRACK THAT TAKES ITSELF WAY TOO SERIOUSLY. Catholicism has done me no good.
"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n."
- Satan, Paradise Lost, John Milton
"Where do bad folks go when they die? They don't go to heaven, where the angels fly. They go to a lake of fire and fry."
- Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash
She’d never been baptized. She didn’t buy into all the demons and angels shit. But it was still kind of funny that she wound up in Hell. Of course the first thing she did was find Livio. And shoot him in the face. A couple of times. It was funnier when it didn’t kill him, she was certain of it. She doesn’t really remember what she was going to do after that, because there were… well, demons and then.
Well, she should have seen that one coming as well.
Somehow trash and lakes of fire weren’t that much worse than Gunsmoke’s average habitable state. And Legato definitely got a kick out of the tortures of the damned. Most likely they were meant to be tortured, but if that’s what the demons were trying to do they pretty much failed.
About the time they were conspiring with all their old “associates” to get out or take over someone made a plea-bargain. Most likely the only reason that it was accepted was because, well fuck them sideways, Satan was hot.
No. Really, really, really hot. And familiar looking. Of course they had the unpleasant experience of finding out the giant, well, he said “serpent” but they thought “sand worm” that was pretty much omnipresent in this place was also this drop dead gorgeous creature with tired, sharp eyes and wild long hair and legs up to, well, heaven.
And the wings, the wings were definitely something.
Anyways, Hell was a pitiable place, but so was Gunsmoke. Hell definitely had prettier architecture and such access to, well, everything and everyone. Legato got to meet Stalin; Elendira got to meet Bonnie Parker. Mostly they were left alone though.
They got lawn chairs. And an umbrella.
Life was good. Until half way through her really tiny piña colada Legato would hit the bottom of his slurppie where there was nothing but syrup and he’d turned the straw around and suck from the spoon end and… That sound just pissed her off.
They’d been quick to abandon all the people they’d gathered to try and take over as soon as the plea agreement was made. Sometimes they still saw some of them, angry and tormented. They usually shared a good laugh. Legato liked to kill them, liked to sometimes go hunt down people he’d known and just kill them over and over again in gruesome horrific ways. Elendira didn’t get the joy in it, but she did appreciate the credit it earned them amongst the fallen angels.
Angels, these angels at least, as it turned out weren’t big fans of humanity. Funny thing was that, neither were Legato and Elendira. They got on smashingly.
They were sitting on the upper balcony of the palace they’d been given under their sweet beach umbrella working on the day’s sugary drinks, when off in the distance there was a massive explosion.
They looked at each other for a moment. Elendira shrugged. Legato looked down at his half finished slurppie. They got up and in a moment where at ground zero for the destruction.
It was a tiny, tiny chance, but a worthwhile one. Because, of course, it paid off in the end.
“You,” Knives hissed at one or both of them from the center of his own personal crater. He took two shots at them, Elendira dodged but unfortunately Legato didn’t. He keeled over, his body flying back just slightly. Demons and fallen who were quickly coming back to their sense were shocked and horrified, especially some of the newer ones who’d stupidly assumed he was one of them. Elendira made motions like she was checking a watch she didn’t have. Knives laughed and it almost made her… what? Angry? But it didn’t really matter.
“You are going to look so stupid in a second,” she whispered to herself. Sure enough, she watched his face reform and the blood disappear from his hair and the ground. He yawned and stretched and took it all well in stride.
Now, they’d both seen Knives make a lot of priceless faces in their lifetimes, but the one at that moment surpassed everything in the history of ever. Elendira fell on her ass laughing and kept on laughing even when Legato kicked her in the ribs.
“I.” Legato’s talking made Elendira stop laughing. It wasn’t really something he did much of lately and when he did he usually didn’t say anything nearly as retarded as he used to.
“I never expected to see you again,” he stuttered out. Elendira gagged. Hell, Knives gagged. Elendira looked over.
“Stop crying you little freak,” she admonished. It didn’t do much. He cried harder even. Fell to the ground and just sobbed. It was pathetic.
“Seriously,” she spat. “Fucking quit it.” Knives had that look about him as if he was somewhere between confused and very amused. If Legato didn’t stop bawling or Knives laughed, Elendira was not going to be held responsible for her actions.
The moment passed. Knives didn’t laugh, but Legato also didn’t stop crying. The demon horde shifted uncomfortably.
“Are you okay?” she finally asked. As soon as it was out the ground split open and up rose the eternal worm, who momentarily morphed into the gargantuan prince who towered over his lake of fire.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded.
“Oh, that’s eloquent,” Elendira said. “Don’t you think you could have come a moment earlier?” She could feel him staring her down.
“And who the fuck are you?!” Knives shouted upwards.
“Oh fuck,” Elendira buried her face in her hands and wondered if because it was Hell if she reverse-psychologied the ground would it really suck her in and under?
Satan shrank until he was exactly six feet and ten inches. Elendira watched him give Knives a once over.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“You know Legato, I vaguely remember them both being much more eloquent and refined than this,” Elendira whispered to her companion. Her companion sniffled wetly. She’d take that as agreeing.
“Don’t,” Legato said suddenly, eyes blank and a little crazy.
“Don’t what?” Elendira questioned.
Satan turned to both of them. He looked at Elendira in a way that made her feel naked and attractive and intelligent and yet horribly wrong all at the same time. Then he looked at Legato.
“I understand,” the archfiend said. “I would expect no less from one of such great loyalty.” And the serpent dove back beneath the ground of Hell.
“What was that?!” Knives demanded. Elendira looked at Legato, he was pulling himself up and almost, but not quite smiling.
“We are in possession of a palace currently,” Legato said, letting his hair fall over his face. Elendira just wanted to yank his head up and push it out of the way. He’d been getting better about that kind of shit. She’d almost kind of started to like him.
As if he had any idea where this palace was, which he didn’t, Knives led the way. Elendira, if she’d had a gun, would have shot him in the head and then tossed it in the mire and pretended it wasn’t her. There was certainly a lot of hate coming from humans and demons and the serpentine fallen around them. But Legato was behind her and anyways, he’d know and he’d be hurt and she’d fucking feel bad.
Mostly they didn’t see Knives, but they sure as Hell heard him. It was even wearing on Legato, Elendira could see it. He wasn’t slurping the bottoms of his slushies up anymore. She never thought she’d miss that horrible sound, but she did.
Demons still came by and Legato still went out with them and Elendira followed, but the both felt nervous about what they’d find when they went back. Then one day no demons came, not even the tiniest member of Legion or the cynical fallen who came for the conversation sometimes. No one.
Elendira knew something was happening. There was no drinking on the balcony, Legato shut the curtains and they both sat in the dark and listened to Knives’ rants and the sounds of Hell.
“What are we waiting for?” she asked again and again, but he wouldn’t answer. The sound of someone knocking on their door was so sudden and sharp it was painful. Legato rose and went to answer it. Elendira tagged along in the shadows, curious.
The serpent at the door was HUGE, and quickly took on the form of one of the beautiful fallen. Without speaking Legato followed whoever the fuck it was out the door and shut the huge iron things in her face as she tried to sneak out behind him.
She couldn’t get up the stairs to the balcony fast enough and search the landscape as she might she couldn’t find either Legato or the fallen.
Had he finally grown a brain and left them? Was he just that sick of Knives shit? No. What was he planning? He had to be up to something. He was always up to something! Because he was a creepy little freak who needed a better goddamn hobby.
She had to spend the time listening to Knives stomp around angrily floors above her head. Eventually, during the night, Legato came back. He was holding most of his clothes in a bundle against his chest and he was all kinds of messed up. He smiled at her and his gums were all covered in blood. Her mind had trouble accepting this.
People in hell didn’t--they didn’t stay injured. Unless. Unless they were tortured.
“What the fuck happened,” she said as coldly as she’d ever said anything to him. He looked at her and laughed.
“Did you know when this place was created, they held a parliament here? Hell is a democracy, really, Elendira. There is a certain freedom of ideas in this place. If you make the proper sacrifices, Elendira, people will listen to you,” Legato said. Elendira could only stare at him.
“You know, for a while there before he came you were actually making some goddamn sense,” she answered after a while. He shrugged it off and headed for the stairs. He had to grip the handrail and she could see that all his knuckles were swollen and one of his fingernails was just gone. She followed him up the stairs, not caring whether he noticed or cared. They went straight to the attic.
On some level she’d hoped they’d never ever come up and confront Knives. Of course she wanted to tell him to shove it, and where and what ‘it’ was, but she was still very aware of how badly he could mess her up.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Knives demanded, but not of her. She might as well have not been in the building. “You piece of shit.”
He unwound his coat from the lump he’d made of it, having to hold the chains and spikes against his bare skin. Then his shirt, but she couldn’t see what was inside. Till he lifted them up from where he was on his knees and held them up till they caught the light of the undying flames outside.
“Pinot noir,” Legato said simply. For a moment everyone was quiet. If Elendira could have stood drawing attention to herself she would have insulted him.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Knives sounded pissed off, as usual. “You’ve brought me wine and your usual melodrama. You’re so annoying.” The blade that shot out was small, relatively speaking, but sudden and terrifying. Legato’s head knocked into the wall across the way, his body fell to the side limply. In a moment Legato’s eyes were open and confused. From that angle Elendira guessed he could probably see down his own throat.
“What the fuck was that?!” she demanded. Fuck this silent bystander shit. It’s not like anything Knives did would kill her. Amazingly, he didn’t immediately disembowel her.
“What did it look like?” he asked instead, getting up and retrieving the bottle of wine and single glass from the ground.
“Like you just cut his head off because he brought you a gift,” she said as bluntly as he could.
“I don’t need or want anything from him anymore,” Knives explained. “Anyways, we both know he’ll be just fine. He always is.”
“You fucking overgrown battery,” Elendira spit out before she even had the sense to realize it. The only reason she didn’t die is because at that moment the fallen, the one who’d taken Legato away that morning, materialized in the room.
“He forgot these,” the fallen explained, holding two extra wine glasses crossed in one hand.
“Ah, it appears I’ve interrupted something,” the fallen said with a sardonic little laugh. He looked around. Walking over to Legato’s severed head he kicked it lightly in the direction of the body. Legato’s arms both reached out blindly and grabbed it. He shuffled around a bit before he finally put his head back in place. It sealed back with a wet slurp. Elendira felt like she was going to be sick.
“Beelzebub, this is quite unnecessary,” was the first thing that Legato said.
“Reacquainting you with your own head seemed quite necessary, really,” the fallen replied with a wry grin.
“You must be his master,” Beelzebub said, turning to Knives. “Well let’s have a look at you.”
The fallen grabbed him by the chin and indeed, turned his head this way and that scrutinizing him.
“Don’t touch me,” Knives spat, but it went ignored.
“My prince is a million times anything that you are. Galaxies implode upon his thoughts. Man will suffer forever, because of him. In comparison, you are nothing. Bluesummers could have bowed to that power and taken part of it as we do, but he chooses a piece of mortal trash like you instead. I do not know what he has sworn himself to within you, but his loyalty certainly outshines your worth.” Finally the fallen let him go.
“For the thrones’ sake, we would have given you to him if he’d become a demon. What’s one less inmate in a prison like this?”
And the fallen was gone.
“I apologize for Beelzebub’s actions. They are his own, but they were uncalled for,” Legato bowed his head and stood. Elendira could really only describe what he did next has highly dignified fleeing.
Knives sliced the top off the bottle and poured a glass until it was overflowing. He didn’t look… well.
Elendira didn’t run into Legato on her way to her opulent room and that was fine by her. She slept poorly as ever.
In the morning she opened the balcony curtains and set out their lawn chairs and their umbrella. No noise came from the attic and it took a few hours to find Legato in one of the basement dungeons. She dragged him upstairs, sat him down on his lawn chair, and put his stupid slurppie in his hand. Then she went to pour the ready made piña colada into her nice little coconut shell cup and snag one of the infinite number of tiny drink umbrellas that was a part of their agreement with the powers that be. It was quiet, expect for the screams of the damned.
Around midday they realized that Knives wasn’t having a fit above their heads. Mostly because he showed up right behind them.
“Your faith is shit to me,” he said, sounding tired. Elendira kept the catty comment about conversation starters to herself.
“I know,” Legato replied. Elendira looked over at him. Today he had a black eye and it stared thoughtfully into his mostly melted slurppie.
“So what’s with the lawn chairs?” he asked when the awkward moment had passed.
“Third closet on your left, top shelf,” Elendira pointed behind her and readjusted her sunglasses. In a minute they were all three stretched out on the balcony with drinks in hand, staring out at the torture and firepits below.
“Do you have to slurp it like that?”
“No Master, I’ll not do it again.”
Elendira laughed into her straw.