Liaison

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

3 New Races/Options to play added. I may post this as an interest check soon.

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

Added some rules. Another location I'll probably add next

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

I also want to reiterate that this is a multiverse/omniverse rp, so people's characters from other stories and threads can find their way into this setting if they write a means that makes sense. Characters don't have to be an exact fit as sometimes it is cool for characters who contrast with the setting to get wrapped up in the shenanigans of a world they're not familiar with. I see what I can come up with to give some more guidance.

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

@Havoccultist The only thing I'm really opposed to is fandom stuff. It's kind of sandbox as you first described but generally, I kind of throw stuff against the wall with the first couple of posts and find the plot from there. I don't know if anyone is open to creating an opposing faction and different locations. I should perhaps write some rules down standards for characters and joining.

Never done one of these

Hey, Liaison here. As long as I've been here, I don't think I ever formally introduced myself. I'm not much of an occ poster but some of you may know me as Lest from the discord as well. I'm introducing myself because to a degree I feel like though I'm open to it, I haven't rped much outside of my personal group on this site. I'm not the greatest at recruitment but I can at least tell people what I am about in terms of my writing.

I am a big sci-fi guy who dabbles in horror at times. My latest RP, which I plan to make an interest check for, is about a hell version of Las Vegas and the shenanigans that go on there with a devil mafia. I can do fantasy and have plenty of characters that use different types of magic. I am familiar with arena and combat though I am way more interested in storytelling these days in roleplays that last multiple threads

I consider myself to be a pretty decent writer. You can check out my writing to see if I am a fit for anything. Personally, I'm just looking for a few writers who like writing about fun stories which emphasize group world-building.

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

"This Earth right here is ripe with desire, dreams, hopes, lust, and a .1% that rules it all. It's the perfect place for envy and the desperation of those in search of influence, and money to cultivate. Along with that, many live in fear, and out of their prejudices, desire power to crush any threat. They'll take any advantage they can. That's where we come in. A few powerful devils were hanging around there that ruled for eons but I pushed them off the block for now. No telling when they’ll come back but I'm not the type to sit around and fear the inevitable retaliation, whatever that may be.”

Two demons locked eyes. Amber-colored versus lime. Both uniquely devious from one another, but cut from the same cloth. Both devils carried their own insidious agendas behind their poker faces, masters of their devilish trades. Ixxa, the succubus reigning over lust, and Parooz, the guile soul stealer. However, despite playing for the same team, neither was too fond of the other's style.

Violet whips of Parooz's cigar emitted a settling plume of smoke obscuring his eyes, ending their stare-off. An obvious tell.

"You're thinking about fucking killing me." Ixxa's face screamed unamused.

"I didn't say that." An expected retort.

"You're FUCKING THINKING IT!" Her voice could be heard out the hall even with all the live music flooding the bar.

Slit-eyed, Parooz skeptically examined the snow-haired succubus, figuring the cat was out of the bag.

"Who told you that?”

Ixxa's poker face broke.

"A little birdie."

In a fit of aggression, Parooz snatched his two-timing pistol out of his trousers in something resembling a stranglehold on its grip if that was even possible.

"Tony, you low-caliber snitch."

Provoking the gun to speak, the mobster recklessly stared down the barrel. A shot rang off from the pistol, lodging itself in the center of his forehead.

The pink-skinned devil fell like a brick, rattling the room's polished silver Schonbek Sterling chandelier overhead. His ashen hair blended into the dusty shag carpet and with a loud thud, he alarmed tiny fleeing blood-orange critters specifically planted in the carpet to clean up waste. Ixxa clutched her 2.55 Chanel Flap, whose leather parted with long lashes as startled almond eyes leered at the faceplanted mafioso. Seeing this as an opportunity to escape, Ixxa pointed her nose up in her exit strut, but Paoroz flopped like a fish out of water, grasping at her heels just within his reach. Promptly lifting her foot ever so slightly, Ixxa stamped the heel of her red bottoms right through the dorsal side of his extended hand with such force it penetrated the oak floors.

"You never change Sepias, but a lot has since you were gone. I think I’ll tough it out with Vileiro and see what he's got planned. Your plans are too dangerous for my liking. Not excited to find out which elder demon you’d like to make an enemy out of for your great return.”

Unphased, Parooz’s slowly raising head mumbled “Funny you asked.”

With a bullet still lodged into his skull, his wide grin became apparent even though Ixxa couldn’t see his eyes.

“I need you to put me in contact with Queen Noppera-bō herself, Ysolde.”

Ysolde, the embodiment of terror and beauty entwined, exists as the apotheosis of the Noppera-bō within the intricate tapestry of existence. Her form, a paradoxical fusion of allure and dread, casts a captivating shadow across realms, yet she is rarely seen. Ixxa draws much of her seductive power from this entity, but even she knows not to dip too big of a cup. Her presence alone projected an intricate dance of elegance and foreboding malevolence. Far beyond mere appearance, Ysolde becomes a beguiling visage, an enchantress that beckons with an insidious charm that resonates with those who yearn for aesthetic ecstasy.

Her form, or lack thereof, transcends the constraints of mere physicality. Ysolde dons the enigmatic guise of an ephemeral enigma—a spectral figure bereft of facial features, eyes, or mouth. Instead, where her visage should be, lies all-encompassing emptiness, a void that absorbs all light and warmth. This formlessness, like the caress of a shadow, becomes an enigma that invites mortals to unravel its mystery, an intricate riddle that tugs at their deepest desires.

With power like that, it made sense why Sepias wanted to use her as a medium to siphon souls. Ixxa was already a masterful manipulator of beauty and fear, wielding an arcane tapestry that intertwines mortal yearning and apprehension. Yet, the demon before her wanted better. As terrifying as it was, the succubus was now intrigued by the proposition. An unholy partnership of Ysolde's beauty-infused malevolence merging with Parooz's dark ambition would result in a crescendo of chaos that echoed across countless realms. The devil in her came out. The main question she had, however, was that it was overkill. What was on Earth F67x that Parooz felt he had such a need to recruit such a powerful source? Maybe he was looking far beyond that planet alone. Either way, she knew not to dismiss his intuition.

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

Name: Sepias Corleone Parooz aka “Parooz”
Age: 36 appearing
Gender: Male
Race: Human/Devil-like
Profession: Underboss of the Sarcoen crime family

Random descriptors:

He was a shaggy-looking man of average height and build with heavily damaged, matted slate-gray hair. His mophead contrasted with his clean-shaven face and he smelled like an unholy concoction of charcoal fumes and Eau de Parfum. Some stubble snuck through his peculiar red-tinted skin and he often scratched it with an aloof expression while talking. This strange mobster's complexion is easily mistaken as the result of an extremely bad tan but it was a reflection of his race. For lack of better words, he was a "devil" but not quite when looking closer. He wasn't the devil Just one of many.

Sepias was the owner of a pair of lethargic vermillion eyes with yellowing sclera signaling intense liver damage. When he widened his eyes a bit, a noticeable amber glow projected. Despite his hair, he was relatively well-kempt in terms of attire, often sporting matching slacks, blazers, and hats, appearing as some sort of ‘not so smooth criminal.’ For a devil, his horns were rather miniscule and hidden by his hair but he was certainly headstrong.

Physical Description: He had somewhat bad posture, always walking with his hands in his pockets, head down, usually mumbling to himself. He smoked a lot, and even when cigar-less, smoke and fumes escaped from his cuffs, hems, ears, and even his mouth when speaking. He had veiny hands with natural black nails and an odd spiral pattern to his palms. Sometimes he’d talk to people with closed lips through a voice that came from the base of his brimmed hat. Clearly, there was a mouth somewhere within that forest he called the top of his head, but not many people were inquisitive enough to try to find out.

Personality Description:

He was a frequent goer to casinos, particularly those run under the intergalactic Pleiades Casino & Resort chain owned by the perpetually uptight frost demon and business tycoon Vileiro. The only reason Parooz wasn't banned was because of the frost demon's respect for the mobster's superior, Ealdorman Sarcoen, who guided them both as youth and was the primary financial support of the Casino chain at its inception. Even as early as that, it was clear they were on two separate paths but in a way, they were like brothers. A pair of cramp twins. Whereas Vileiro had an unhealthy fascination with luxury, Sepias had an equality unhealthy relationship with vice and of all things, numbers.

The idea that the world is made up of numbers and that everything quite possibly had a numerical explanation kept him up at times. In a sense, numbers serve as the new deity for him, but it was one to be challenged and he often did with his unlucky dice. This led to him becoming quite a gambling addict and his obsession with dice rolls and coin flips determined if he'd act on a situation at times.

That being said, if you happened to be unlucky, and you failed to pay up from a bet, he’d take a finger or worse for his inconvenience. When Parooz became animated, more of his fiendish characteristics manifested. His already sharp canines became pronounced, multiple mouths and eyes appeared just about anywhere on his body, and a deathly heat radiated off of him, followed by random eruptions of fire. However, aside from that, he often clung to his self-proclaimed title of being a "fun guy."

Skills, powers, and abilities:

Tough son of a - Parooz's skin has what can be described as an iron-like elasticity to it. It was exceptionally tough and thick, allowing him to handle and take on some of the sharpest of weapons and projectiles very well, mostly dealing with the blunt force. With enough focus and time, he can augment its effectiveness. Combine that with his already exponentially fortified ram head of a skull and skeleton. Parooz was not one to challenge to a fight when you're feeling moxy in a speakeasy.

Occult Anatomy - Sepias can spawn the features of his head anywhere along and within his body at will. This includes eyes, mouths, ears, noses, and even sabbatical goat horns. He can remove them, cartoonishly jumble his face like Mr. Potatohead, and even place them on foreign objects with the functionality to grow.

It is no surprise the energy radiating off of Parooz is malefic in origin. He is not simply a practitioner of the occult, he is the occult, hailing from a race of human/devil hybrids who live in a hellscape version of Vegas. Its strip extends endlessly, only rumored to end at the gates of hell.

Though he had no affinity for massive feats of external manipulation, he had exceptional control over his soul, body, and demonic energy. Sepias could grow multiple of his body parts like arms and legs out his frame. He could place parts of his soul into basic objects to give them fiendish personalities, increase their strength, and grant basic movement. For example, he could put a switchblade on the floor, give it eyes and have it jump up and take a whiff at someone when they walk by. In reality, these objects aren't actually alive and just represent the multiple personalities he has. It's a coping mechanism for him to stay sane, though if enough of them are together, it's common to see them bicker amongst each other.

Cremation - Parooz has an affinity for manipulating heat, smoke, fire, and ash, often utilizing them in unorthodox, creative ways. He could turn a boulder into a wave of hell fire and brimstone. He could turn a forest into a small hell and there was no foreseeable limit to how hot his flames could get. The mobster is particularly fond of igniting opposing forms of energy, especially magical barriers, and shields. Parooz was especially sensitive to things that passed through the smoke he produced. The faintest of charred smell in the air could mean he's scouting out the area you're in.

Not so fast, buddy - With the ability to replicate parts of his brain, Sepias gained the ability to manipulate his central nervous system as well, allowing him to react significantly faster. In combination with Sepias' ability to place his eyes anywhere and his accelerated understanding of physics, trajectory, and arithmetic, it makes him quite the challenge to blitz or ambush, even with high velocity projectiles.

Dancing with the devil - For someone who slouched in seats, has bad posture, and an unexplainable leg drag that switched depending on the day, Parooz was cartoonishly nimble and flexible when motivated. At times he’d even resemble a snake, narrowly evading in slithery manners when contorting his body to avoid threats. He could briefly turn his body into the shape of a stop sign to hide behind one. He could dislocate his elbow, whirl it like a propeller and fly away like a helicopter. You never seemed to know what you will get when dealing with him.

Buck 50 - Parooz tail is thin and spade-shaped. It extends at will much like his forked tongue and was ridiculously quick, strong, and sharp. It could be used like a whip and it was capable of lifting boulders, clashing with swords, and cleaving fortified metal armor. Truly, a lethality effective weapon for surprise attacks, slicing and even constriction.

Knives out - Parooz had a seemingly endless amount of stiletto knives that never encumbered him. They were stored just about anywhere: Pockets, socks, shoes, sleeves, in hats, under his tongue, ass crack. Use your imagination. Not to mention, he also happened to pull much larger objects seemingly out of thin air like glass bottles, standard Tommy guns, anvils, and sometimes even freakishly large hammers. It was common for him to embed said weapons with his hellish energy to increase their effectiveness against magical shields and armor.

Character Equipment

Barrel-Tone Tony - A slick talking ghoulish-looking pistol with noticeable anxiety that only got worse when firing. He'd often taunt Parooz when he was off the mark, especially since specific rounds physically hurt him to fire. During disagreements, it wasn't surprising to see Tony attempt to pistol whip Parooz on the spot and even take literal shots at his owner.

Bullets shot by Tony could curve at absurd angles and the rounds themselves had a habit of gnawing and devouring absolutely anything they seemed to be lodged in or penetrating. They also had the capability to stuff themselves fat and explode. The effects they'd have was dependent on what Barrel Tone Tony told them to do. They could turn corrosive, explosive, incinerate, become cryo rounds, etc. Parooz considered him an idiot but he did have some amount of psychic proficiency. He could at least warn Sepias when someone was trying to penetrate his mind.

Pair of dice: Cerulean glass dice whose snake eyes are actually snake eyes.

Zippo Lighter: A holographic lighter embroidered in his emblem. When flicked open, it revealed a set of razor-sharp teeth like a barracuda and a blue flame. If you weren't paying attention, you could lose a finger or two.

Switchblades: Stiletto Milano Knives whose blades could extend moderately to become sword-like.

A stick of dynamite: Bang Bang

Character History:

roleplayerguild.com/topics/191144-par…

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

The decrepit fingers of a peculiarly soulful ghoul engineered hypnotizing sounds through the yellowing, cracked keys of a three-legged Bartolomeo Cristofori creation. Its body, tastefully remixed, consisted of fortified bone and hardened spotty leathers similar to the pianist's skin tone. Under the speakeasy's scarlet light, you could barely identify his glowing red corneas sharply surveying the room. Awaiting the arrival of the alluring Ixxa, he was certainly on edge. As a member of the Sarcoen family, this musician's career was a side act. However, he was a true artisan of his craft, never splicing a note when playing in front of the crowd in ecstasy resembling a demonic sugar shack. His name was Vincenzo. A name not necessarily feared, but respected. He had more fans than enemies, though being backed by Ealdorman Sarcoen added a double-edged level of protection.

Despite his role in racketeering, the jazzist was quite low rank but that extra layer of safety as an artist in the wild, Hell Vegas city of Aeternus meant the world to him. Today his job was simple. He was a pair of eyes and with them, he spotted the cherry-skinned snow-blonde woman in a little oroton mesh dress waltz in. Vincenzo played a particular stream of chords that alerted management of her arrival. When Ixxa attempted to sit at the topaz counter of the bar, a large Gargoyle figure obstructed her path with his forearm, directing her to V.I.P. Extremely irked, her heels, which were more like stiletto knives than footwear, pierced the creature's foot before she stomped off. Though in monstrous amounts of pain, the creature bit his stone lips and watched her angry strut into a narrow, winding hallway. Ixxa's heels sliced through the carefully laid velvet pile carpets that decorated the interior filled with blackened bones and claws carrying lambent candles burning violets and puke greens.

Ixxa approached the section brazenly with pursed green lips but before she could get a word out, the raspy but smooth voice of what sounded like a lifelong smoker exclaimed "Remember when we were kids, Ixxa? You had faith in me. What exactly changed between then and now?" She paused.

The purplish haze that fogged the V.I.P. room cleared, revealing a mauve-suited man lowering his brimmed hat to his chest in an honorary gesture towards the snow-haired succubi. He had small onyx horns on opposing sides of his head pointing north and south that you could barely make out between his matted ashen hair. With one foot resting on his knee, this bizarre man, if you'd consider him one, slouched on the couch whose legs were the actual legs of some very much alive mink beast.

Ixxa stood directly in the center of the room. The walls were illuminated in dim vermillion light, showcasing the multicolored works of imagist art hung somewhat lazily, with many crooked and some even upside down. When examined closely, the boundaries of the section appeared to breathe, aside from the last wall directly behind the man. That one was boundless, plastered in infinite darkness.

"Ealdorman exiled you." The scowl on her face pierced souls, yet the demon opposite her named Parooz frankly replied "CGHH-CGH…Yeah, so?"

The demon casually flung his hat over his shoulder into the void behind him and began patting the cushion left of him. Ixxa rolled her chartreuse eyes, unfolded her arms, and began to turn around.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see you, Sepias. Consider that mercy and a warning."

Before she could depart, rusty gates like a graveyard rose out of violet flames sealing the exit. Spontaneously, a cigar Parooz pulled out under his skull-shaped cufflinks lit with the same flame. He exhaled.

"Things change, Ixxa. I wouldn't come back without a nod from the boss. You and Vileiro's lackadaisical response to the Casino's relocation is, for lack of better words, alarming to Ealdorman. You two may be satisfied basking in earthy riches but he and I know the only thing of any real value down here are souls."

The Family Biz [Open To Apply]

WELCOME TO AETERNUS

A BRIDGEWORLD OPERATING AS HELL'S VEGAS BETWEEN EARTH AND HELL

Welcome to Aeternus, a city that thrives on the symphony of sins and temptation. A demonic rendition of Las Vegas’ strip endlessly stretching into the hottest pits of hell. It pulsates with an intoxicating blend of vice and darkness, where the streets are slick with desire and every corner exudes a sense of supernatural danger. Neon lights paint the sky with a mesmerizing scarlet glow, casting an eerie sheen on streets that never sleep. Sinuous spires of odd shapes in sizes sprawled the strip, filled with creatures of all walks of life and origin.

Entering Aeternus is not for the faint of heart but it is accessible at nearly any point in the multiverse. Correctly prepared portals to this infernal wonder are hidden in the most inconspicuous of locations, requiring daring souls to traverse speakeasy back doors and navigate cursed elevators that descend into oblivion, stopping at the dreaded -666 floor.

Vice is supreme and souls, the currency of this wicked city, exchange hands as effortlessly as a poker chip in high-stakes games. The pursuit of these precious tokens is a fevered obsession for both the living and the damned. Souls are stolen from humans and creatures alike, plucked like ripe fruit from unsuspecting victims, or sold in Faustian bargains in hopes of fame, wealth, and a taste of glory.

There are many gangs, corporations, and syndicates but the Sarcoen crime family holds sway over the labyrinthine underbelly of Aeternus. Their grip on the city is ironclad. From their business fronts, they orchestrate a symphony of corruption, guiding the destinies of both mortals and demons alike. As a secret backer of the Pleiades Casino & Resort, the Sarcoen family's tendrils of control reach into every facet of Aeternus.

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RACES OF THE VERSE

THE DAMNED

Making up the vast majority of this hellish society, members of this race often have odd hues of skin tone and predominantly have horns of some sort. As for placement and size, they varied tremendously as each "Demon" took on the features of a particular mythical or cultural entity while appearing as humanoid as possible. An example of this would be the owner of the Pleiades Casino & Resort, Vileiro. Though his classification would be frost giant, Vileiro's freakish height was relatively tame at eight feet tall. His skin was an undersaturated blue, like a pale man suffocating and his lanky pencil-like build was far from what you'd expect your typical frost giant to have. (For further reference, Morrigan Aensland from Darksalkers would fit in a world like this seamlessly.) To be noted, humanoid features were not absolute. Often these beings could transform into more menacing and primal forms when angered or at moments of high emotion and others have no human-like form altogether.

SOULBOUND REVENANTS

When a soul departs its mortal vessel, the cosmic currents of Aeternus might intertwine with it in ways unforeseen. Souls unable to move on or steeped in malevolence are drawn into the dark undercurrents of the city's essence. Within the crimson-lit labyrinth of this hellish city, the Soulbound Revenants come into existence. Once human beings, now they stand at the crossroads of undeath. Their forms are reminiscent of their previous mortal selves, but they are twisted by the touch of infernal energies and the weight of their malevolent pasts

In Aeternus, many Soulbound Revenants wander the streets like lost spirits, navigating the eternal night with a purpose that only they understand. Some seek redemption, and a chance to absolve their sins and ascend beyond their twisted origins. Others embrace malevolence, embracing their sinister nature as they manipulate the currents of power and desire that course through the city's veins.

UMBRAL ANGELS

What most would know as Fallen Angels, Umbral Angels are in fact one and the same. A celestial race that has succumbed to the allure of darkness and temptation. Their forms, once radiant with ethereal light, now bear the scars of their fall from grace. Skin that once glowed with celestial luminescence is veiled in obsidian hues, shrouded in an aura of mystique that conceals their true nature. By far the rarest race in Aeternus, they aren’t particularly well-liked and often meddle in the Damned’s affairs. Easily able to hide their presence and blend in, many have conversed with one and have never known. Out of all of the creatures who live in Aeternus, these angels were the most likely to help wandering souls but not at the cost of a soul like devils would.

S-WARDENS (FACTION)

Having emerged from an alternate Earth that experienced its own descent into darkness, the Seraphic Wardens carry with them an unparalleled understanding of the demons as the descendants of those who lived through rapture. Their specialized training and mastery over combatting the forces of the abyss are a testament to their abrupt exposure and through countless trials and tribulations.

As the shadows of Aeternus attempt to cast their pall upon Earthf67x, the Seraphic Wardens approach the Earthf67x Government with a proposition. A sacred alliance, between them and the Mobius ops. Their awareness of the devils' machinations and the intricate fabric of their realm makes them invaluable allies in the battle to safeguard the sanctity of mortal souls. They are so devoted to this task that they even have hidden bases within the devilish city.

PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING ELSE

From mere humans to spirits, aliens and beyond. Play what you want as long as it's original characters of your creation that you deem fit for the story.

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LOCATIONS

THE SARCOEN SPEAKEASY

Nestled within the labyrinth that is the city of Aeternus, lies a hidden sanctuary. An elusive establishment, having many fronts as legitimate businesses in multiple locations. Their secret doors lead to a notorious speakeasy serving as one of the many bases of operations for the Sarcoen crime family—a nefarious conglomerate of demons who navigate the realms of power, sin, and the coveted currency of stolen souls.

Once stepping into this jazz-complemented sanctum, one is immediately enveloped by an otherworldly ambiance only capable in Aeternus. A crimson haze permeates the air, casting an unsettling yet captivating glow across the onyx-polished bar. Behind an eclectic assortment of potions and elixirs, each brimming with an iridescent sheen. The bartenders on any given day of the week range from a seductive succubus, stonefaced gargoyles to even mild-mannered ogres.

The centerpiece of the speakeasy is a grand stage. A focal point of darkly mesmerizing performances that captivate the senses. From demonic ballets that blend grace with menace, to symphonies conducted by floating hands. Yet, within this colorful den, dangerous secrets in the underworld trade ears and two-timing deals are negotiated and cut. All in the name of stolen souls, the very currency that greases the wheels of this infernal machine.

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RULES

☩ Treat each other with respect as collaboration is the goal. However, Arena is allowed among consenting parties.

☩ Anticipate mature content within the character interactions. [18+]

☩ Aim to craft detailed, captivating scenes that drive the narrative. However, there is no mandatory post-length

☩ Posting is flexible and continuous. Post as much as you like as long as you arent forcing actions onto others' characters that isn't logical.

☩ This is a multiverse/omniverse RP, meaning this is a part of a larger ongoing narrative of stories spanning multiple long-going threads. If you would like to learn more about that, just ask.

☩ Prioritize proofreading for high-quality writing rather than sheer volume.

☩ Adhere to the established RPGuild regulations. (No harassment, obsessive trolling, etc)

Parooz's Nexus Adventure

After a reptilian blink, the demon's pupils scattered like a broken rack of pool balls. Parooz's mouth foamed, leaking a malodorous miasma laced with kerosene and Eau de Parfums. To his fellow spectators displeasure, the devil's abhorrent wheezing and violent spasming distracted from the final, probably drawing Kyinon's ire. Like a marlin, the devil's straight jacket restrained body joused into the doorstep of Daniel and Tom. Billions of electrical impulses in the depths of his twisted mind fired relentlessly, mirroring the action beyond the scope of the portals, ping-ponging through the endless labyrinth of his gyri.

The mafioso's body was too hot to touch, fatally searing if even a quick attempt to unlatch his bindings bounded by hell occurred. A demon suffering at the feet of mortals was no sad scene, so no sympathy was expected, but if anything, the bizarre sequence of events before them were a sign of something significant. What could cause a malefic entity to virtually have a seizure when he had nearly infinite pools of hell energy to siphon computing prowess from? The terrifying luxury tendons currently binding him to hell allowed for just that. What did that say about this verse in general? The straps loosened on arrival, but now Parooz felt like he was being dragged back. Their power was increasing. The boundless verse that was the nexus, deemed unscalable, impenetrable to outsiders, was vulnerable. Perhaps by the subterfuge of events masquerading as a final. Whether it was carelessness or hubris, obliviousness could lead to oblivion, which wouldn't be so bad in the demon's eyes considering what they put him through prior.

Before Parooz even came to his senses, reminiscing slightly to events not even a day ago, an explosion thrusted him like a blade into the wishmaker. His maleficent frame vibrating like a wet saw with hell sourced energies, highly adaptable to being capable of burning through arcane walls of power by the most ever-present and long-living entities.