Danse Macabre

[Nasira]

Sobered by the Horned King's bid, Nasira nodded stiffly in response to Frollo's intuition, her face pensive. She set her half-empty glass down on an end table. "Let's not take any chances." Nasira's voice was hushed.

Lindsay brazenly spoke up, her single yellow eye snapping to Nasira's.

"If you end up killing him, feel free to bring his corpse back to my lab. I'd just love to pick him apart, see what makes him tick."

Nasira returned her gaze for a long moment, then turned away, allowing Lindsay to leave unchallenged. Her thin fingers struck the rail of the balcony in staccato taps. She could feel people watching - as if they expected her to do just that. Greaaat. 

Frollo continued:

"But does what this monster say have any validity? Should we 'show him the door?' As I believe the phrase is?"

As much as Nasira did want to "show him the door," that was not for either of them to decide, and the Horned King's proposition could be to every Blackblood's advantage. "Her Excellency needs to hear this," Nasira replied, a tinge of asperity in her businesslike tone. She smoothed the creases from her dress, a neurotic tic. "Go," she commanded as her back straightened. "See if you can find Crow. I shall keep our guest occupied." 

Nasira wordlessly made her way down the stairs as the Horned King's sepulchral speech replayed in her head, passing Tabs, Marius and Facilier. She stopped just short of the stage and looked up. The Horned King's eyes were two beads of blood in gaping sockets, but her no one could have found fault in Nasira's stare. 

"Greetings, Scourge of Pyrdain," she said with chill courtesy, inclining her head. "My name is Nasira al-Taweel. I am an overseer sworn to the Blackblood Legion. On behalf of the legion, I ask that you refrain from further theatrics until you are granted an audience," she said firmly and quietly. Her voice held the faintest suggestion of "or you'll have to deal with me." She did not speak lightly. In the absence of the sultana and the vizier, the lich's life may be forfeit at the slightest provocation. 

There was a long pause. Now that the lines had been drawn in the sand, Nasira gestured, and a serving man poured some wine for their guest.

[Tabs]

Tabs was sure perhaps the spectacle was impressive to some. After all, not everyone could have the… distinct displeasure of being a millions year old cosmic horror firmly under the thumb of an infinitely yet more horrific and powerful cosmic horror. That was exactly his point in indulging himself in this party -- to forget that unreality. And this rando? Shaming him? Shaming them? Wasn’t going to fly.

“ . . . a h a h a h a h a h a h h h . . . t h i s i s a b a d c o m e d y . . . “

Tabs was gone, but his voices came from all over as it slid all about the room, like an invisible serpent. Something just screamed uncanny in the way the breathy choir snaked around unseen. It was clear to anyone who ever glimpsed Tabs that he was a strange sight to behold, but now it was more clear that his appearance was merely the precipice of his unearthliness -- that three-legged four-faced abomination -- that was as close to normal as he could ever become. And that “normalness” dropped for just the briefest of moments.

“Here’s the thing, sweetheart.”

The creature was corporal again, as close to mundane as he could ever hope to be, and hovering in the lotus pose just a foot or so directly above the ghoul lord’s antlers. The tiniest pinhole of a glimpse into his true nature had passed. Even so, Tabs gave every impression he could completely own this exchange, if he so chose. But no. He was holding back -- very purposely so. He was coy. He was wily. He was unfazed. This was a... game.

“Take this from someone whose been pitching for far far far longer (obviously) than you’ve been alive. You’re not going to sell a pitch if you insult your clients. It could be the best idea in the world, but,” Tabs drew out the word on a musical pitch, lifting a claw in a shrugging motion, “You get a solid… two out of ten. Keep trying, kid. Maybe in a couple million years, you’ll be able to enough for me to humor.”

The condescending tone wasn’t a common feature in Tabs’s speech. Usually, he was courteous and could offer saintly patience. Not in this case. As far as he cared, the Horned King was asking for it. Coming in their house and insulting them. So what if he had an idea that was maybe valid? Tabs cared not for conquest. He was there to observe the humans and make sure they didn’t extinct themselves. Tabs had his own agenda and while it didn’t clash with that of his army, it was clear he was different than the rest of the Blackbloods.

But, as Tabs made it his goal to do, he would not abuse his power. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, be like… It.

Besides, the Bloodbloods may find use for the antlered ghoul. It’d look bad on him to damage the product.

“No, I don’t think we will cease this ball because… ah ha ha ha--- you said we had to. It seems rather silly saying it out loud doesn’t it? Yes, I thought so too.”

Tabs “stood” up, or rather just made the motion of standing up, as his hooves appeared planted on a nonexistent plane in the air as he floated. Dress appeared somewhat flowy, as if gravity was lessened around him, for it moved like water while he bent at his waist.

“Let me introduce myself...”

Tabs stood upright, allowing his remarkable height to show.

“Ahyth Tahbs Rrah, Ohnah-yth! Yfehtheh!”

Tabs’s Mother Tongue was unfamiliar but spoken with conviction -- whatever he said, it meant something powerful.

[Vinny]

The little demon boy hadn't made himself too well-known at this lavish ceremony, mostly just trying to see if anything cool was going to happen. As much as he wanted to indulge in the alcohol with the "adults", he had to repress his instinct for committing sin. Though he was several hundred years old in the mortal timeline, he was still just a teenage boy in demon years, and he had picked up that it was commonly looked down upon for minors to be consuming alcohol. He was trying to shape up and blend in with the mortals after all, he wasn't here to sway sinners and damn them back home in Hell.

Though... he guessed one little drink wouldn't hurt. Just one.

The satyr-like demon moved quietly along the sides of the ballroom, making himself inconspicuous as he possibly could considering his slightly odd appearance. He had his eyes set on a table with a giant cooler full of some kind of fruity cocktail mix, and any kind of cocktail was one sin that was hard to refuse. He strolled by it casually, darting his eyes back and forth to make sure nobody was watching, then very quickly poured himself a glass. He practically downed it all at once, and the alcohol content was high enough that he was tipsy within seconds. Not drunk, just a little wobbly. Him being small meant he could not handle hard liquor as well as a human could. But it was enough for him. That was his one glass for the night.

...Well... maybe one more would be okay...

He started to pour himself another when the Horned King made his proposal, the theatrics enough to enrapture Vinny completely to where he totally forgot he was holding the tab down on the cooler. The drink started to overflow onto the floor, but the demon scarcely noticed until it was over. As his statement drew to a close, Vinny had a giant toothy grin stretching out his maw.

"Woah... that was SO COOL!" he half-yelled in his slightly inebriated state, whirling around to face the person next to him, spilling even more cocktail on the floor in the process. "The Blackbloods have gotta let this guy in! That was the most awesome thing I've seen since I came to the surface!"


As Tabs began to confront the Horned King, he just got more excited. "Oooooh, oooooh he pissed off Tabs! Oh shit! Oh shit, this is AWESOME!"

[The Horned King]

What little the Horned King had done, he had done, and most seemed to notice. Even if their drunken celebrations dulled their reactions, he noticed the fear in some, the excitement in others, and the disinterest in most. No matter. To many, he was another random stranger, a foolish magician with some parlor tricks.

And now that the four-square-faced creature approached him, and insulted him and his request, the Horned King recognized the source of his strength and magic. The ancient tongue he spoke was from a time long before the Horned King and even before the spirits that dwelled in the Black Cauldron, but any necromancer worth his bone dust knew the sounds and sights of the Old Gods.

Many feared them.

The Horned King was not one of them. He did not fear the Olds Ones, or even Tabs now. He respected them.

"Ah, so even the Old Gods have agents in the world today. Hail, oh Honored Servant, and accept my gratefulness at your beautiful presence. Your Mother Tongue is a welcome sound, and the glimpses into the madness of your Forefathers was a refreshing memory of true chaos. Your power, while foreign at first, now resembles the various cults to those Old Ones whom I have paid homage to in the past."

The Horned King bows to Tabs, and continuing, remarks, "And you have mistaken me, Oh Honored Servant of the Blind Idiot God. I wish not your revels to be finished but rather done for greater profits than a simple stone, and with greater security than you have done previously. All this being spoken, you speak as one commanding authority, Servant of the Old Ones, yet you hesitate to remove me from the palace. Why would this be?"

It would be around this time Nasira would speak up. The Horned King reluctantly removed himself from his conversation with Tabs to focus on the lowly human. Oh, and he was just beginning to enjoy the eldritch beast's lack of respect towards him.

"...Or I'll be dispensed with by you, neophyte necromancer? You have some talent, but it seems your edge has been dulled by the taste of victory, Nasira al-Taweel. The lack of undead prowling your halls, the smell of but a single soul on your breath, one may wonder if a famed sorceress like you even trains the necromantic knowledge you claim to have. Notwithstanding the truth that you do not beg for assistance in finding the Cauldron shows that you have not heard of its powers, proving you either know-nothing of our art or that time has forgotten the Cauldron."

The Horned King motioned to Marcus, still shivering. "And considering the magic of the demon ritual in that fool's arm quivers in fear from my mere presence, I will assume time has not forgotten the Cauldron, but Agrabah certainly has. I can only assume your confrontation is in hope of delaying any more actions until the Sultana arrives? Very well, I will wait. But you will know, Nasira al-Taweel, that the only one in this room with a chance of subduing me is the four-headed servant of the Old Gods."

And with the grace of a distinguished ruler, The Horned King stepped down from the stage, arms folded into the sleeves of his robes, and arrived alongside Nasira's side. Shaking his head at the drink, the lich simply stood tall. "I speak with full honesty, little necromancer. The Cauldron is real, and its power can be used for the aid. If I have spoken falsehood, then you may judge, but my speech was the truth."

[Sarafina]

While curious eyes laid fixed on the hooded figure entering the mighty hall Sarafina's ears perked and turned towards an approaching click. Claws on tile.

Not feeling a need for caution in the safety of the Blackblood's desert jewel the lioness was not of the mind to turn and keep her back away from the presence approaching her seated hind. The drifting of cool air tousling through her fur with icy feathering however was enough to draw Sarafina's full attention behind her -- an action that tilted her head back and around in a severe craning. A moment was taken to regard Nil's full regality with a handful of curious blinks before the lioness seems to connect the well-wishing with the intended subject. Sarafina's expression eased into genuine gratitude, the skin about her eyes and muzzle softening. "Thank you."

Brief greeting exchanged the pair seemed to both turn their attention back to the figure mounting the stage, though the smaller figure lifted her glass towards the waving Scruffy with a bemused snort at her pridemate's appearance. "A bit macabre in appearance, but perhaps they'll surprise us with a good act."

Another voice became known approaching thylacine and lioness. Sarafina's expression was polite as she turned to regard the upright oryx over the rim of her sipped wine. Prey and predator were not unknown to speak with one another in her own realm, but to stand on two hooves rather than four was a curiosity she took in with great interest. Was such a thing a learned practice? Something any creature might achieve through persistence? It boded studying -- perhaps another time, however.

"I'm afraid I don't know them." There was a brief pause as turquoise eyes scanned the room made oddly quiet. The following statement was murmured beneath a slightly narrowed gaze. "... It doesn't appear that anyone else does either. That's a bit concerning."

Now, magic was well above Sarafina's proverbial paygrade. She lacked the experience to know the hierarchy of strength from magi to magi -- it wasn't like the natural world in which ability could be detected by the physical senses. Thus it was that while the lioness was impressed by the show put upon by those in the room she was not cowed. It stood to reason in her mind that whatever threat this 'Horned King' posed could be quashed by the might of those present.

Even a mighty elephant fell beneath the claws of a competent pride.

The Blackblood Legion was more powerful than any pride known to time, a fact never as clear as it was the moment that the Tabs creature so thoroughly stole the show.

With a murmured 'excuse me' the lioness laid down her emptied glass and slid from Nil and Shion's side. There was something she needed to know.

Her destination brought her to Nasira's side. She knew her presence was hardly a threat to those present, but still Sarafina allowed herself to twine behind the necromancer like a protective force. One shoulder brushed the fabric of Nasira's gown in a silken breath to alert the woman of her presence before Sarafina's head lifted by her hip.

"I will wait to bid you welcome, Sir Magi, until our Sultana decrees that you are indeed more than an insulting interloper." The dark tuft of her tail twinkled with silver song as it twitched. "However, it is clear that you are not one of us. This event was by invitation only and guarded." Sarafina's gaze shifted up to Nasira, her words targeted no longer towards their strange newcomer. "It would be interesting to know what state the guards are in now if this one is now here among us."

[Dr. Facilier]

He watched the theatrics of the Horned King with amusement, and then as Nasira and the others approached him, disagreeing with his statements and insults. But perhaps the most amusing thing was watching Tabs approach the stranger, and then speak in his mother tongue.

The exchange was quite the sight to watch, especially as the small satyr-like demon began to whoop and holler. Facilier then decided to make his way down the stairs, mouth curving into a sly smile as he approached Nasira, Frollo, and Sarafina with near silence.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the guards were dead and gone on that beautiful marble floor just outside these four walls." Facilier drawled, turning his violet eyes onto the Horned King. Before he could move to introduce himself, two forms appeared behind him, both towering over the witch doctor. Facilier turned his head back for a moment, and rested a hand on his hip.

"Well, it's about time y'all showed up." Facilier growled, turning his attention back to the terrifying visage of the stranger. The two demons were supposed to have accompanied him to this silly little ball, but instead, they chose to show up late, for whatever reason.

"Like our dear Tabs said, insulting our ranks is not the smartest thing to do if you're attempting to have us join your cause." Alastor hissed, stepping forward to Facilier's right. To his left stood Corson, who eyed the lich with his piercing golden gaze. His muzzle pulled back to reveal massive teeth and fangs, the sound of his hooves echoing throughout as he stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak.

"And I would not be so quick to assume about the prowress of our magic users here, stranger. If anything, there are several of us under the power of the Old Gods, who have the power to subdue you."

[Nasira]

Nasira covered her surprise by raising a sharp eyebrow as she was taken back twenty-two years in a blink. Once that opprobrium would have sent her in rage or made her slunk away, seething, with one last defiant barb to save her pride. But she had faced worse dangers than decrepit necromancers. "Dispensed nonetheless," she promised in a tone that was equal parts disbelief and disgust. Her quiver was far from empty. The overseer made a show of looking around. The Blackbloods were watching the lich as one might watch a mad dog, waiting for it to bare its fangs and be killed. All she had to do was say the word.

Nasira lifted a hand and studied her sharp nails intently as the Blackbloods around her began to simmer. "You presume too much, Scourge of Pyrdain. Your proposition is tantalizing, but - " She gave a dismissive flick of her long, elegant fingers. " - as our dear Tabs so eloquently put it, disparaging your clientele is folly." Her hand dropped.

The Horned King stepped down from the stage. Nasira bristled though she stood her ground.

"I speak with full honesty, little necromancer. The Cauldron is real, and its power can be used for the aid. If I have spoken falsehood, then you may judge, but my speech was the truth."

It was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. Nasira was openly seething now. "Little?! You should have stopped at neophyte," she fumed, wounded. "Again, we are not ungrateful for your help, but that does not mean we intend to endure your blatant mockery. Is that plain enough for you?!"

Sarafina broke in:

"It would be interesting to know what state the guards are in now if this one is now here among us."

Nasira felt a sudden dread. In her fury, she had forgotten about the guards. She set her mouth in a hard line as she glared accusingly at the Horned King.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the guards were dead and gone on that beautiful marble floor just outside these four walls."

"Well?" Nasira put ice in her voice. She took a threatening step forward, her dark eyes feral. "You heard them. Where are they?"