phoenixstrut | [AU] For the Greater Good

Zaveid stays lazy, although Galen can probably feel the demons thoughtful gaze on him until he's out the door.

"Boyfriend's well trained - almost couldn't tell he thought me a rat to get rid of." He's mostly sarcastic. His point, made?

She tenses, face going from pink to red and a surprisingly sharp laugh escaping her before she can stop it. "Right, like I have the luxury of dating, let alone anyone of my choice-"

Crap. That's not what she's here to discuss. She refocuses and takes a sip at her drink, glancing away for just a moment.

Yeah, he cares more about what she didn't touch at all.

In fact, whatever emotions she's been reading have finally shifted. Disappointment peeks through, although not for terribly long - like it wasn't a surprise.

Zaveid settles back, a lot more closed off seeming now. "I think we're done here today." His gaze flicks to the angels hanging out outside, then back to her. "Seems most of what the high can agree on is how my lot fall in between terrifying and disgusting, and that isn't a stance good for negotiations."

Whoa, what?!

"Hold on, we just got here," she stammers, "No one's said that."

"You've been tense the whole time. You don't want to be here, but you're trying." He tips his head a little - points for her, she's... something, about him, and still is trying anyway. "Point for... probably fear. Either just you're nervous about trying this or you don't deal with Low much." Or at all, and so him claiming to be the King is a big scary thing.

"Him?" Zaveid tilts his head toward the door for a second. "Mr Shining Armor? Totally wanted to tip that hot drink into my lap or throw it in my face rather than talk about not fighting. Most humans would take that as a fight me, so he's not scared. Point for not fit to be scraped off shoes."

He grabs his paper. "As one ruler to another, since you're getting your feathers wet with all this. If someone on your guard can't keep neutral in public? They don't belong in public." He gathers a coat he'd had on the edge of his chair. "They're an extension of your face - of your people, of your aims."

And a smile, as he gets up to go. "High isn't even close to being united in your goal. You couldn't even get guards who agree to come with you. He behaves in front of you, but what about if you're not around? And can you say the same for the lower ones, who might encounter mine out here?"

Edited 2018-05-17 23:28 (UTC)

She just sits in silence, staring at him with wide eyes and mentally shrinking back with every point he makes. Okay, maybe he hasn't attacked her outright, but this is almost worse and so much more embarrassing.

She's frozen in place, completely defenseless, until he rises to his feet and makes to leave."One Guard that needs to be reprimanded, and this is your reaction? Leaving before anything is resolved?" She stands as well, leaving her cup on the table. "You can't make assumptions like that over one person's overstep-"

"Then can you say with absolute confidence that more than half of your people want this end to the fighting?" Zaveid stops, staring down at her.

"Or is it only those who lay down the rules who don't care if we live or not, so long as the fighting is done."

For that... she has no answer, and it's all she can do not to waver as she stands with him towering over her.

He's intimidating as Hell.

Fitting.

And then he just stops, all lazy smiles and languid cat movements again.

"I won't tell my advisors to stop what they're doing, but you might want to work on convincing your own people before you call on me again. Later, dear." And like that, he just lazily heads out of the shop, not a glance at her guards.

"But-!"

There's no stopping him; he's already out the door, and she's not sure she's got the gall to actually attempt it. Once he's disappeared, and she's realized she's just staring after him, she takes in and releases a deep breath. That had gone so much worse than anything she had expected, and her Guard....

She'd be having more than just a word with them.

A few weeks and a more than a few 'missed' calls and invitations later, she's resigned herself to never again be in the presence of the Demon King, despite her various attempts at both apology and hospitality. His advisors are still there, and have been negotiating with her own Council for hours by the time she's scheduled to arrive for their meeting. In her formal archangel gown, she makes her way into the room, greeting each with a solemn nod of her head. Her immediate staff has given her a brief of what has been discussed, though she's mildly curious as to why some of it has been so vague.

Nevertheless, she takes her seat at the head of the room, frowning in confusion as she surveys the room. ...why are so many of them missing?

The reply might be in the form of about half of the demon advisers straightening in... something, while a few others blink, and then put their face in their hands (but somehow diplomatically facepalming.).

And then its more than a little obvious Zaveid is on his way, because there is that demon-y aura, a little different from last time, but with enough punch it almost has to be the king.

Who is wobbling a little between two of his advisors in a tunic that is most definitely the style of the high, yawning, and with wrists bound by some sort of angel-made material.

"Your place smells funny. Is it because all the glowy?"

The shift in the room is notable, but she can feel him even before his own start to move. She tenses, hopefully not too visibly, but enough so that the guard to her right, a woman just a few years older than her, leans forward to whisper in hushed tones. "The highest Council members thought it best to to end the games and... strengthen the gravity behind their invitations."

Dove's firsts clench at her sides before she stands once more, wings shuffling anxiously in frustration and eyes bright with angry golden Light. She doesn't entirely understand the tunic; it's clearly of the High, and far too short and casual to be appropriate for a meeting of this magnitude, but it's the indings that infuriate her, even moreso than his unexpected presence. At least Zaveid doesn't look.... angry...

"I apologize, My Lord. I had no idea you would be joining us today," she greets him, voice carrying across the room and filled with a tone of genuine apology and poorly concealed indignation. "Unbind him. Immediately."

The flames lining the walls in their crystal troughs flare brighter, just enough so that a few of her angels move to do exactly that without even a glance at those who commanded the bindings in the first place.

There's a little shift among his as well - at least one demon blinks at the light change, and one of the ones who hauled him here is replaced by one of the ones who stayed.

Before the angels reach him, he yawns, a jaw popping affair complete with stretching out his arms. It's after that he blinks at the remains of the bindings.

Oops?

"Which seat is mine?" He asks, still sounding sleepy, and the angels nearest can come for the remnants, if they want.. Perhaps if they dare.

Shit. Dove doesn't dare take her eyes off of him, but she doesn't look too surprised, either.

The angles headed to unbind him stop dead in their tracks as Zaveid takes care of it himself.... accidentally. One of them takes a few slow steps back and returns to his seat, while the other, much braver or just unperturbed, steps forward to remove the remains of the shackles.

There's a roll of confusion as Dove motions to the chair directly mirroring hers. The Demon King's display of strength is shocking.... but he doesn't look he way it seems most of them might have imagined.

"At your leisure, my Lord," the archangel adds, more a stab at her Council than anything. How dare they drag him here and expect peace-

There's a faint nod to the angel who took the shackle bits off, but otherwise he just listens to Dove and glances at the seat.

Ahh, he sees what she did there.

He turns and goes to it, but his lazy almost wobble brings him to the remaining advisor from his snatching, and his arm goes over their shoulders and he may have said something, because the demon deflates a little but nods.

Zaveid drops himself into the chair and once again lounges in a very lazy cat way, while the demon he talked to excuses himself, looking a little scolded, and heads out.

... He's content to study the room from here for now.

It seems like her subtle jab at her Council has at least earned her their attention for the moment, as no one seems too eager to speak first. It feels odd to just begin the meeting in such a manner, but she... really can't help it. The least she can do is actually try to speak with their guest, rare as it is for him to join them, before the heavy topics hit.

"Are you... feeling alright, my Lord?" She asks, voice much steadier than when they had last met. It has to be, given who she's surrounded by. "I hope that... regardless of how or why, they found you well."

Is he sick? Or just... drunk? There's a sigh as she waits for his response. She should have known better-

He blinks back over to her and gives another of those lazy grins.

"I'm great." Still looks like he might be high, and the grin doesn't help. "Nice and full."

The way the demons shift, that means more than they hauled him from lunch...

She's obviously missing something, if the looks from the demons in their audience and the eldest of her own court are anything to go by.

She nods. "I'm glad to hear it." She's not... entirely sure what it means, but he seems happy enough. The next question seems to be more toward the full audience. "Are we ready to begin?"

"Fill me in." Zaveid remains lounging, but he looks amused.

Particularly at the angels who focus very hard on the demons to either side of him. "I seem to be too distracting in this."

He shifts, entertained by any hurried glances to not see too much, not that it was a risk, and grins at Dove again. "Pants are on the way."

Edited 2018-05-19 23:58 (UTC)

She can feel the unmasked amusement, even under the strain of embarrassment, irritation, and discomfort in the room, but says nothing of it and only nods, at least managing a half smile in return. She then motions to the man at her right, an elderly angel with sharp eyes and a distinct robe- one of her High Council, likely. "I think we would all benefit from a summary of recent discussion."

The man nods stoically at her gentle command, then proceeds to recount the most recent of negotiations and conversation. It's brief, but the others seem content with it.

It covers enough for Zaveid, anyway, which is important. He asks a clarifying question or two but them the demon he sent off returns with a bag.

"Nearest bathroom?" Zaveid takes the clothes and stands, an amused glance across them.

"Unless I am reading you all wrong and changing here is up your alley."

"That won't be necessary, my Lord," responds the elder beside Dove. She lets out a soft breath, grateful for his intervention. She'd... rather not address it, but does nod toward a younger angel boy by the door who timidly offers to guide Zaveid to the nearest accommodation.

The boy will lead him to a room, simple and airy, but clearly of extremely high tastes, even down to the cords that tie back the curtains. Through the window are he gardens, vast and luxurious and brimming with living Light.

"Fancy." Zaveid drawls, before glancing at the kid. "It'll be a minute, take a break."

And maybe he does take a sec to stare at the gardens.

Either way, he's back out in a minute, and has a folded tunic. "Dunno if you wanted this." Zaveid the low leather pants probably don't help, but there is something like a shirt included, so maybe it's fine.

Of course, the more distracting thing will be the horns in his hair when he returns to the hall.

There's a shaky 'yes mi'lord' and nod from the boy, but he stays at the door as commanded, leaned back against the wall in the hallway. When Zaveid returns, he looks up and reaches to take the tunic, all the while keeping his eyes low.

His return into the hall is marked with obvious interest as the general talking dies away to silence and is replaced with a gasp or two. A few of the younger angel crowd seem shocked, while the eldest of them take it with grace.

Dove, of course, is among the younger crowd, and can only stare, eyes widened. Only true, full blooded ancient demons boasted horns....

...and her guards had dragged him here.

They are very lucky that he isn't wrath, and this display is most of the reprimand he thinks they need.

The effect he has on his own side of the hall is... Much better posture. Clearly he doesn't always do this, but when he does, it's for formal things.

"Sounds like I need to get caught up again." Zaveid drops back into ~~the slouch of evil~~ the chair and remains kinda sprawled there. But he does look less like a high cat...

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