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CADENCE

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Retaliation was swift. It had come faster than he had expected it to. But he had expected it nonetheless. Expecting anything other than swift retaliation from your enemy was foolish. Cadence had taken Akroma, a demon who he had developed a fondness for, and Xerxes had responded by taking him. He'd barely gotten to speak with her when it had all happened. Rasa would now face the same position that had started this whole war in the first place, the Underworld had taken her Lord. The roan knew intimately what the mists were like, and he dreaded the potential for them to take him away. 

He didn't know if he could bear another stint in that abysmal place. His amber eyes scanned the terrain as he descended into the belly of the Underworld. Pain wracked his core as he moved. Cadence remembered this pain from the last time Xerxes had taken him away from Utopia. That had been years ago, when he'd become lord for the first time. Once he had felt like they could've cooperated together and serve the mortals, but he no longer felt that way.

Cadence disdained his counterpart far more though. While Xerxes was known for his savagery, Teca seemed to lack manners or professionalism when the time called for it. Cadence was forced to stop as the entirety of his body became hot with pain. The Underworld rejected him as a Utopian. He didn't belong here, and yet the savage dreadlord had dragged him here. "Xerxes." Cadence called into the empty space around him. "I feel I've struck a nerve... are you listening now?" The roan asked into the still air, although he couldn't be sure that the Lord of The Underworld would hear him at all.

"You've retaliated so quickly for Akroma, and yet not for your own children... a curious thing." He taunted again as he sucked a breath in through his teeth. Since the declaration of war, something had awoken in him. There was a vileness just lurking below the surface for those who found themselves on the opposite side of Utopia. Perhaps that was what the mists had wanted all along. Gone was the passive form of Cadence, and he was replaced with someone who had fire in their belly. Was this what he should have felt like all along?

Cadence couldn't tell. He did want to know why it was Akroma triggered such a reaction from Xerxes though. The two appaloosas were far more connnected than he'd ever anticipated. He had felt for her with genuine compassion when she'd shared her story with him. Nobody deserved to come home to a den of wolves their entire life. He knew the pain of being hated by those who should have loved you.

A z z y bleh sorry this sucks

[A z z y]

The pallid beast knew how this move would look, he could almost hear the narrative that would be spewed from the mouths of his allies and enemies alike. To take Sly's soul was a problem, but it did not affect the crimson witch physically. His children had already outlasted Nehemiah, their time in Utopia was now to learn, to observe, to interact and to assess. What Xerxes was affording them was an inside knowledge, an understanding perhaps of how their naturally occurring enemy worked. If it would stoke the flames of their ire moreso than ever, he knew for certain that if nothing else, they were creating an enemy so volatile in Everest that upon his release they would come to know real retribution. But Akroma? Akroma would not bow to Utopia for as long as Rasa sat at the helm. Rasa had abandoned her, stolen her, taken everything whilst simultaneously giving her nothing but a reason to hate the Utopian lead. If Akroma wished to leave the Underworld, Xerxes had hoped it would be of her own accord, not because Cadence had spirited her away since he had grown a soft spot for the once lady of hell. Akroma had never been one for knights in shining armour. Despite his relations to his children, to Akroma, to Sly, he had made such a decisive move against Utopia for one reason - to prove a point.

The Underworld shivered with an almost clandestine shift in it's aura, the arrival of the Utopian scumlord enough to send the very atmosphere into a frenzy. Xerxes released a low and ominous summons to his one and only Daeva, Artemisia. Her name sake came from the ferocious valkyrie his mother had been, she was the child of Everest and an angel, the fiend already proving to be useful despite his incarceration in hostile territory. After a brief pause, as if emerging from the darkest corners of the shadows, the heathen bitch emerged. With glowering blue eyes like that of her sire's, glowing purple dapples and bull horns protruding from her temples, she stood before the great serpent, her crown dipped. Yes, Xerxes? she queried, her eyes as lifeless as the heart within her chest, despite the burning ire within them. Come with me, there is someone I'd like you to meet. The younger undead maiden bobbed her atlas eagerly, her salmon pink tongue slipping out from beneath her incisors to moisten her bloodied lips. The two damned beings moved in silence, Xerxes guiding the daeva as he felt the familiar pull towards the entity that held the same level of power as he.

"Xerxes. I feel I've struck a nerve... are you listening now?” The echoed words upon the hot winds of the abyss only roused a small smile from the dreadlord, his gaze seeming to ignite with the very fires of hell that licked at his underbelly as the two strode onwards. Soon enough, the blue hue of the Utopian lord came into view. Artemisia cast her grandfather a curious look, wondering why he had asked her to join him on this occasion. Yet around her neck, on a tightly wound tendon string, was a collection of feathers. Several of a pearly hue plucked from the ground where Nehemiah had rotted, some of an inky black, taken from the ever subservient Leviathan. Artemisia was here to collect and deliver a message. "You've retaliated so quickly for Akroma, and yet not for your own children... a curious thing." As the two devil's moved before Cadence, Xerxes merely cocked his jaw, a subtle jerk of his atlas given to Artemisia. He watched as she stalked forwards, predatory, ready to strike should Cadence react. And when he didn't, she swung her teeth at his feathered appendages and plucked three plumes from his wing. As she moved away, Xerxes grinned. Cadence, I'd like you to meet Artemisia, my granddaughter. A daeva no less, he watched as the younger entity took her leave once more, the feathers gripped between her teeth. A daeva conceived whilst Everest has been held hostage… would Cadence be wise enough to realise the implications? That just maybe they had someone fraternising with the Underworld who was allied to Utopia… let him tear his world apart looking, it was no concern of Xerxes’ which angel had parted her willing legs for his son.

There was a time when he would have lifted the weight of the Underworld from Cadence, he would have shown something akin to mercy, no more. If anything, he silently willed the Underworld to crush him more so, to do whatever it could to send the bastard to the mists once again. To answer your question, I have always been listening. Rarely does Utopia say anything worth listening to, however. he hissed, his nordic tones filled with something so evil, so dangerous, it was a side he rarely revealed. There was a reason he held this position afterall, and it wasn't for being nice. If it wasn't for Nehemiah being abandoned by Rasa, you'd still be just a lowly angel, if not rotting in the mists. Tell me, Cadence, do you think Rasa is listening now? Do you think she will come for you? Worming his way under the skin of his enemy, he continued, She didn't come for Nehemiah, she didn't come for Sacoorah… she's not even attempted to come for Leviathan… what makes you think you're so special? The words were forced from between his fangs, his lobes melted against his poll as he wound himself around Cadence like a serpent, his mass slipping along his enemy's embodiment like silk. Standing before him once again, Xerxes grinned, his teeth and eyes flashing in the meagre light. For what it's worth though, you're here because Utopia, you, have continued to take and take and take. It is time you had a taste of that medicine you've been so ready to dish out. With a sudden jerk of his skull, Xerxes silently commanded Cadence to follow him. Let the God assume he was making his way to the cells, let him assume he'd be treated with the same dignity and respect his children were allegedly being treated with.

➳ T e c h n o ➳
Artemisia design for ref


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[➳ T e c h n o ➳]

CADENCE

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Xerxes arrived, and he looked like hate. It seeped from the pores of his flesh. When he arrived, he did not arrive alone. Cadence noted the youth at his side who he did not recognize. The Utopian Lord knew that Xerxes would have a reason for this, and he would await the reveal. A child of malice, she proved this by reaching out and tearing feathers from his wings. Hot pain seared through him and he let out a soft grunt, but he did not react more viscerally than that. Cadence was sure Xerxes would loved to have seen him writhe and squirm. Her introduction was the first thing out of his mouth. The entity was his grandaughter, Artemisia. That wasn't what he found most interesting about her though, she was a daeva. Cadence remained stoic before Xerxes as he studied Artemisia as she turned to take away.

Xerxes revealed that Everest was the sire. He merely smiled in response. Cadence knew what the Dreadlord was trying to do. "Congratulations grandfather." He offered in response to Xerxes. It was as if he was not swayed the least by the revelation of information. If anything, that gave him something new to accomplish as Lord. "What is that like? I don't think I have any grandchildren yet." Cadence asked as if they were here to catch up. He didn't care to catch up, but he wasn't about to let his enemy get under his skin either. There was something different about coming back from the mists. When one spent their time there, things changed. Perhaps it had reshaped his soul.

The roan remained quiet now as Xerxes went on an anticipated response. It was another retaliation. All the while, Cadence hardly batted an eye at his display of hatred and violence. The way he hissed his words through gritted teeth, and the fire of ire burned in his red visionaries. Cadence held his gaze and listened. Xerxes prattled on about how he wasn't special and how Rasa had abandoned so many Utopians to the Underworld. As if they were not their own individual entities who could fight for themselves. There was plenty to be said about residing in the painful underworld. 

It ached and tried to tear him apart at the core. The Underworld rejected him, but the pain was not unfamiliar. That pain was nothing compared to the nothingness of the mists. Xerxes ended his mini tirade by promising to give Cadence a taste of his own medicine. He jerked his head abruptly in a silent command for the roan to follow him. That was when his own expression finally changed from a mask, to a glimmer of something else. It was not the shackles of depression that weighed him down, but a hunger.

"And why is it that fully capable entities need saving at all? Why do I need saving? You speak as though we are weak and pathetic things lost in the breeze without Rasa's light. As if we do not have fangs and claws of our own..." He spoke as if his words were leading to some grand conclusion. They were leading only to his own flash of violence. "I find it funny that you think I only take. Maybe because we are enemies, and once upon a time I almost found you pleasant to talk to. It still took me stealing a former lover for you to retaliate so directly. Not your children.. and you speak of saving Utopians while simultaneously denying the advantage it is to leave us here. You said yourself that you have a daeva because Everest is being held by us. That's a might contradiction."

Cadence called Xerxes out in casual tones. They were a bit more animated now though. Then there was a cold laugh as he remained firmly rooted where he stood. Where the licking tongues of the Underworld's pain remained at quieter. The deeper he went the more pain he would feel. "What's that saying? Let go or be dragged? Well fucking drag me then." He barked as he lunged for the Dreadlord's throat. He would not go quietly into the Underworld. It was laughable to think he would play the part of an obedient dog. 


A z z y I've given Azzy permission to powerplay Cadence for the *drama* 

[A z z y]

Like a hawk, he watched as Artemisia advanced upon Cadence, her teeth outstretched to pluck the plumes from the fallen angel. His reaction was meek, mild, and luckily for him, precisely what Xerxes had hoped for. For should he have lunged at his granddaughter, should Cadence have dared to cross that line in the sand, Xerxes would have taken his face from his skull. His hellish scrutiny followed Artemisia until she returned to the abyss, the muffled thuds of her footfall upon the ashen carpet of the Underworld soon dissipating into silence. It was then and only then, did Xerxes return his fiery vision upon Cadence with an unnaturally calm ire. "Congratulations grandfather.” Xerxes could not deny the way the corner of his lips curled in a wry smirk. "What is that like? I don't think I have any grandchildren yet.” Xerxes rolled his muscled shoulders in the equine approximation of a shrug, slabs of solid muscle moving beneath snow white silk as a casual indifference befell the Devil. She is not my first, in fact Allocen bore me my first grandchild… he trailed off, unsure if Cadence knew what crimes Ragnar had committed against Allocen, and now Hymn. His crown cocked slightly though as he cast his gaze down upon the sapphire hued Utopian. What with Xovad having ended Ragnar for his attack upon Hymn, the urge to worry the beast before him was something he could not ignore. I suppose your chances of becoming a grandfather have significantly lessened, what with Hymn meeting such a sticky end… my condolences, the words were spat as a sickly drawl. Time worked differently in the afterlife as it did for the mortals, Xerxes steal for Cadence had been completed moments after he had bargained Hymn's life for Sly's soul. I suppose at least he'll be there to welcome you, should you leave this place.

As Xerxes spoke, Cadence listened, his silence deafening as the devil continued on. As his promise of a taste of his own medicine was delivered, did the God finally shiver into life. Like a ravenous dog, Xerxes leered at him, his lobes instinctively flattening to his atlas as his swarthy lips peeled back to reveal flashing enamels. Let Cadence try, let him do what he thought he could. Afterall, he was in Xerxes’ home now, the odds were not in his favour. "And why is it that fully capable entities need saving at all? Why do I need saving? You speak as though we are weak and pathetic things lost in the breeze without Rasa's light. As if we do not have fangs and claws of our own…” Xerxes heard the words but he cared little for their meaning, the belch of laughter that escaped the behemoth was volatile, vicious. Rasa's light? He repeated, incredulously, Her apathy is infectious and it has rotted you as well, it would seem. Are you insinuating that Leviathan is incapable? That Nehemiah, one who held the very same power as you, could have tried? Forgive me for doubting your fangs, Cadence, but I have seen no evidence of a spine within any of your legion… he hissed, a brief pause following before Cadence pressed on. "I find it funny that you think I only take. Maybe because we are enemies, and once upon a time I almost found you pleasant to talk to. It still took me stealing a former lover for you to retaliate so directly. Not your children.. and you speak of saving Utopians while simultaneously denying the advantage it is to leave us here. You said yourself that you have a daeva because Everest is being held by us. That's a might contradiction.” Xerxes chuckled, an ominous rumble that reverberated through his muscled chest. That is the difference though - my retaliation was direct and it was swift. You and yours have endeavoured to chip away at my patience around a war I did not declare, I am not playing anymore, Cadence. If it is a war Utopia wants, then it is a war they shall receive… he mused, his words a solemn vow that Pandora’s box was well and truly open now. There was nothing Rasa nor Cadence could do to shut it.

We have a daeva because Everest seized an opportunity. What have the Utopians in the Underworld achieved? Utopia has always been content with mediocrity, for doing the bare minimum. That will have to change Cadence, if you wish for your angels to survive what is about to come their way… Xerxes chuckled darkly, his dome shaking as he gestured for Cadence to follow. But he did not. A cackle left the Utopian and Xerxes turned, an intangible brow quirking, knowing the ravenous look in his prisoner's eyes. It was a look he knew all too well. It was a look he had given many himself. "What's that saying? Let go or be dragged? Well fucking drag me then.” And with that, Cadence lunged forwards, his teeth bared aiming for the throat of the Undead King, as if he could experience death again. Xerxes grinned, a maniacal slice across his face as he shifted his mass up and away from Cadence. It was enough to allow him some space, for it was then he angled his crown towards Cadence and swung the pointed tips of curled spires into the solid flesh of his adversary's shoulder. The tips hooked into the pliant flesh and tore upwards, jagged red lines appearing through the flesh of the God. It was enough to send him to the ground. Drag it is, he snarled viciously, advancing on the crumpled beast with grave intentions. As Cadence aimed to stand, Xerxes took advantage, his incisors parting wide as he swung them at the pliant flesh behind Cadence's poll. Grabbing the area behind his ears, Xerxes bit down with all the force the behemoth could muster, his limbs braced beneath him as the strength of his nape bulged at the crest, dragging the bloodied lord to where he would soon make a mockery of him.

He dragged him through dense dunes of ash, his enamels crushing down upon Cadence’s poll as he pulled against the writing entity. It felt like an eternity until eventually he released him after pulling him through a brief tunnel in the rockface leading to an almost arena like structure encircled by jagged black rocks. Xerxes moved away from the God, his entity almost snake like in it's lithe movements as he wound away before twisting back upon him. But he did nothing, he just glowered at the fallen angel. If there was anything broken beneath the blue flesh of the deity, Xerxes healed it. Yet those deep but superficial red lines remained. Get up. He ordered through gritted teeth. If Cadence thought he could fight Xerxes, if he thought he would win in an environment that wanted nothing more than to send him back to the mists, he was about to find out how sorely mistaken he was…

➳ T e c h n o ➳ 💕


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