voracity
Senior Member
Withering Tower
The underworld is vast and far-reaching. At the fringes, there is nothing to be found but gaping maws of void and abyss ready to take the foolish and careless who dared to traverse the dead and uncared for lands, hellfires that have been fueled by the fury and indignation of the denizens since the beginning of time. No matter where one finds themselves in this nightmarish scene - the Withering Tower is a crumbling, ruinous, structure seen from every possible angle and place in the underworld. There, 8 Kings have long made it their home, their court, and have built their thrones at the top of it. Now, all that remains is 1 throne, and 7 Kings stretched far too thin to tend to the Tower, or to indulge in royal luxuries.
Well. At least most of them are too busy to indulge themselves.
Pride was the eldest of his sin-siblings, although they did not bother to count the years between them all, he had always been the most capable, the first to take point ... even if it was because he would have pushed aside anyone else, for he was unwilling to let anyone walk ahead of himself, he would confidently say that in any contest, he'd come out on top, no matter which sibling it was he found himself squaring off against. And naturally, due to his better disposition and capabilities, he found himself with a far larger workload than some of his ... less capable siblings. Naturally. It was a mark of honor to bear the weight of responsibility when there were those who could not do so. But it was also bullshit and unfair.
Stewing in frustration at the tippy top of the Withering Tower, Pride's tail swung from side to side as he struggled to find a solution to his troubles. He knew without a doubt that Sloth was elsewhere doing everything other than what he was supposed to do, and Wrath who would gleefully perform his duties, but also quickly realize it wasn't as fun as letting his toys live to fight another day. How was the underworld supposed to properly run when there were so many souls and denizens roaming around like this was an amusement park?! He casted an eye down as he made his descent, realizing that his lunch break was over, but when he landed on the bare and ruined throne room, his eyes were fixed on the empty, silver throne ... reverently ... and then ambitiously.
Spicy Plaza
Claire stomped on the urge to gag as she peered at the menu put on window display of the noodle shop. What kind of dish needed Eyeballs and Fish Lips as its core ingredients?! And it wasn't just this noodle shop that featured exotic meals and ingredients either, the whole god damn street featured all kinds of weird things and body parts she'd never heard of before. "Someone surely has died from eating this, they must have," Claire reasoned with herself as she began to walk away from the shop. At that moment though, her stomach growled and her steps came to a stop. "...No, no, no ... I'll definitely die if I ate that, a painful, horrible, and embarrassing death in the restrooms, I just know it," she tried to convince herself, but still couldn't take the next step.
Somehow she found herself in the alley, between the noodle shop and the pizza store beside it, right where the kitchen doors were. As it was lunch rush, no kitchen staff populated the alley with their weird green smoke or other hallucinogenic-recreational-herbs. It was safe. For now. Even if she couldn't eat, she could at least ... imagine it, right? Through smell alone?
Her stomach began drumming again, and this time, she couldn't help but to scream, "I get it! Shut up, already!"
This time, she got an answer - and it wasn't from her stomach. The door she had been leaning on swung open, sending her sprawling off the little steps she'd been sitting on. Upon seeing the confused - and quickly angering - expression of the chef who raised his gigantic meat cleaver, Claire took off running out of the alley, and right into someone else!
moronface