Master of Puppets [Pupus/Invite]

[Lucifer]

3:04PM
FEBRUARY 19TH, 2012
DESIGN AND CONCEPT SECTOR 12-R
MIASMIC COMPLEX
TARPIT ENCLAVES

The Enclaves were a personal favourite of Lucifer's. They were full of many a thing to be held in high regard; the oozing shadows that dribbled down the wall without restraint or halt, the murky depths of the grisly eponymous pits littered around: it was like an industrial revolution in darkness, an entire factory torn to pieces and strewn across a warehouse within the blackened, misty depths of a place enigmatic in existence and leadership. It was horrific. It was imposing. It was... beautiful.

The Complex itself was best renowned for, of course, being the home and battle stations of the Demon known best as Legion; which Lucifer considered to be absolute Hell to talk to, if only for the messing around with pronouns. Sure the "you" plural was fine; but when it came to reference, he wasn't ever sure whether to use "it" or "they". The Devil was fairly certain that the collective - funnily enough, that he'd created, around seven billion years or so ago - was female or male, but beyond that, he really had no concept of what to call it them. The whole two thousand two hundred and twenty two souls business was easy enough to grasp, it was just the damned terminology that tripped him up time and time again.

But that was all irrelevant: for all the visits Lucifer could - and would - pay to Legion, today, he strode not in the Harbinger's land to see his own lieutenant, but instead to see his Archdemon's ensign; the one they called "Pupus". It was a strange relationship he held with the Demon - for his grasp on the mechanisms of Inferis was rivaled by few, but he was still yet a baby in the eyes of many more archaic and respected dwellers of this land he had so devotedly crafted for them. This garnered him, as was to be expected, some silent opposition from the masses - yet the puppeteer's renown came not from his age nor his experience, but indeed his skill.

The workshop Pupus functioned within was an expansive one of the Complex. Considering it was used for much of the manufacturing of the darker machines that were stationed within the Enclaves and indeed the fuller breadth of the Devil's world, much of the stronghold Legion held doubled as a glorified conveyor belt for the in-house conception, design, prototyping, and mass production of many of Inferis' more soulless troops. He'd heard wonders - through the Abyssal grapevine - of these "Clockwork Dragons", or so they were called.

The place was always something marvelous to behold in a grotesque industrial sense, and would have had Lucifer gawking at every window or wall he strode past, but instead, the hallowed and Hellish halls of the Design and Concept Sector, wide, sharp, and utilitarian as they were, had all been committed to memory long ago. No longer did he find himself awestruck or in speechless marvel at the creations of the Complex, simply knowledgeable and contented with the entire affair; for the endless factories of the Tarpits never faltered nor slumbered. There was always a chimney spurting out plumes of the darkest, grimiest smoke; there was always a single machine that fastened rivets into the newest creation of the expansive warehouses.

Turning a corner and pivoting on his heels, the black-clad Devil flexed his fingers and sighed as the Demon he was looking for came into view. He strode up without making himself announced, but knew that his reputation and aura would probably precede him if Pupus was feeling in a perceptive manner today. Satan had a penchant for ironic and recognised subtlety. Of course; his visit today was unannounced, and had been totally unconsidered of barely an hour and a half ago. It was a spontaneous strait down to the Enclaves and straight overhead, pulling up with a skilful nosedive into the Complex - and then a good few minutes of walking.

"Pupus," The white-haired Devil uttered slyly. "Hope I'm not intruding." With a sharp turn in his stature, he pulled up alongside the puppeteer craftsman, aligning himself perfectly opposite the lesser Demon with a broad, mischievous grin. "Got bored. And figured out I might have something for you to mess around with." With a leather-clad finger Lucifer tapped his nose coyly. Not whilst there were so many listening ears... though where wouldn't there be in the whole of the Complex?

[Pupus]

Within the confines of the Miasmic Complex, there was much work to be done, and even more to be started upon. Hammers fell upon steel, steam rose from the mounted pipes, and all in effort to continue with one single mission. A mission of progress! It was such a glorious thing, bringing about constant growth to the forces of the Tarpit Enclaves. Fulfilling in many ways, all of which were personal to the so called "toy maker" of Legion, even if it benefited his master more so than himself.

Everything he did was for his master.

The overseer of the workforce of the complex stepped forward onto what appeared to be a loading pad and held out his arms. As his cloak fell to the ground below, he gave nary a flinch as mechanical clasps tightened themselves around the arms of his current body. His eyes widened slightly as a mechanical hiss sounded out, warning the workers nearby to back away. Before him a crane lifted his tail from a vat of some bubbling, green liquid, and as it moved forward each drip left a sifting steam as it landed. The most dangerous of poisons he'd concocted, though he knew with more time and experience he could develop an even greater chemical compound.

The arm of the crane lowered the tail behind him, and Pupus felt a tug through his entire torso as the scorpion-like tail was reconnected to him. The restraints loosened, but before he could go to retrieve his cloak a... familiar presence entered. Much greater than even his own lord; a demon worthy of no other title but "High King". Lucifer, for some reason, had decided to grace the puppet with his presence once more.

"Pupus," He began, striding next to the one he sought after. "I hope I'm not intruding." The puppet master's eyes scanned over the true king of Inferis before his lips flinched to create a smile.

"Not at all, your highness." His robotic voice seemed to be slightly more chipper, showing some sort of emotion for once. Pupus turned in response and gave a short bow forward, arm over his chest in respect. "How may I assist you this evening?"

"Got bored. And figured out I might have something for you to mess around with." A small ticking came from the craftsman's neck as it moved upward in response to the nose poke before the rest of its body to attempt eye contact with Lucifer. The rest of himself straightened out, and he kicked up his cloak. He then pulled it over himself.

"Do tell... Tickticktick..." His odd laughter came out, and the puppet coughed as if he hadn't meant to let it do so. This, of course, was more reaction than necessity, seeing as his throat had no actual means to cough. "Anything I could do to be of use to you, my lord, would be an honor that would shake me to the very... core."

[Lucifer]

"Do tell... Tickticktick..." The artisan puppeteer was in himself inherently important to the Devil's endgame. He, of many, had a tiny part to play in a puzzle far more extravagant than he could conceive. It was a glorious masterpiece; a magnum opus of the Devil's work that dawned on them in time, and still remained very much in the works: but there was so much to be done. Pupus coughed. "Anything I could do to be of use to you, my lord, would be an honor that would shake me to the very... core."

Brightly, the white-haired Devil smiled. This obedience was not required and by many challenged and disliked, but in the presence of an avatar of true evil, many felt a soulbinding duty to serve the entity that was solely responsible for their existence upon this plane. "You, of course, remember the particular precious stones I had you fashion for me, no?" Because, if Pupus didn't: Lucifer certainly did. "The orange crystals, y'know, the fun ones I got for a specific purpose?" Satan was trying not to be too direct about it.

In essence: he'd requested the services of the Enclaves' greatest artisan and scientific manufacturer to create him... something. An amplifier. A solid unit which served to accentuate the power one already held; a booster of sorts. The Memoir Crystal. It allowed the user to seamlessly tie one power into another, to project them across a mile-wide radius, to cut through and perform feats none had ever heard of; of course, only for a limited duration and at a limited intensity before it crumbled into dust. Functional though short-lived, the prototype batch Pupus had created had been nigh-on perfect in the testing runs across his spheres - drawing Demons in utilising the innate abilities of the Treasure Traps and generally wreaking havoc. It was great.

But the true factor that made the Crystals marvels beyond their time was the fact that their creator had fashioned them from essence and essence alone. The Memoir Crystals Pupus had initially created were just solid repositories of Soul Energy. Nothing else. Tangible, solid, crystallised energy, masses of it, enough to raze entire buildings... and it all fit into the palm of your hand. Portable destruction, direct from the Tarpit Enclaves themselves. Truly; the work of wonder that the puppet had presented him with had impressed Lucifer. And that was no small feat.

"So, P-Man," Lucifer swiftly fashioned a nickname for the eerie clockwork individual. P-Man. It was kind of fifties and less than gratifying, yet a term of ironic endearment. Hmm... he'd have to think about it. Maybe. P-Dog? No, he didn't rap. "I need a few more of those crystals for testing." The Devil didn't feel like elaborating. "Testing" was a broad term. Perhaps he'd just take them for personal use and play Hell with the amplification it provided. "But I want to know if you've found any ways of improving them."

Of course - the Memoir Crystals weren't an issue for him. He could really extend his power as far as he wanted. But the application of the stones would not fall solely within the bounds of Lucifer's omnikinesis; no - there was a requirement here that slept beneath the surface and waited. There was something far more important - a purpose for these gems. And it was one even Satan was not sure of himself - but they were bound, en masse, to provide some sort of mild entertainment.

[Pupus]

The Memoir Crystals. Pupus remembered them well, as it had been himself who forged them deep within this very building's walls. Lucifer had a very specific interest once Pupus had found a way to... well... let's say 'draw forth' soul energy. It was nowhere near as simple as it sounded, and it required quite a few less than willing demons to gather enough of the substance. Still, in the name of progress Pupus saw no wrongdoing in taking what lives would be lost eventually anyway, especially when he had the consent of who was the most powerful being in Inferis.

When a god gives a command, you listen.

"Yes, sir, I do have more of them. Sadly, the most I've been able to accomplish is prolonging their usage by mere minutes." He shuffled to the side wall and pressed one of many buttons on a mounted communication device. After a less than enjoyable discussion with one of his workers, the puppet turned on his heel and faced Lucifer once more. "They will be here momentarily."

He stretched the joints of his body and his tail flicked around as if it were impatient of its own will. The demon stepped back to the devil's side, eyes straight forward as if in a trance. Thoughts circled within the chest of the puppet, all information contained within the demon-heart being searched through until he came upon what news he may have of progress on this particular task.

"We know quite a great deal about soul energy, but I believe there are many uses that have been left untouched." His joints creaked. "I believe it could be used in much more devastating ways given the proper research and hours. Possibly even ways that would effect the tears between our realm and Earth?" Another ticking chuckle escaped the puppet and he gave a pleasant sigh. "Of course, this is just a theory at the moment, nothing set in stone. The ways that the mortals pass through here naturally though, even more of them popping up. So called, 'demon hunters'."

Pupus gave a loud scoff before he turned away just as the worker he had ordered to bring the new batch of crystals arrived. The small demon scuttled his way over to the two of them and opened a steel box, which revealed the shining, orange objects that the high king sought after.

"I do hope you enjoy these as much as the last ones."

[Abaddon]

The Tarpit Enclaves were perhaps one of the most lovely spheres of Inferis. They represented vile industry, and a fate that would likely become of mankind if they continued along with their current path to move forward. To invent, to create, to build. These were all relatively uninteresting topics to Xerxes. The Enclaves represented the eventually outcomes of these terms, corruption, devastation, destruction. Ah yes, that was the route of all things, now, wasn't it? Regardless.

The demon traveled through the corridors of Legion's stronghold, commanding a largely detectable presence rivaling an-and even overpowering some-archdemon. The broken halls and rusted parts amused the lord of locusts, but he's seen it all before, and once again, the scenery wasn't the subject of the matter. Legion. He sure was one of the funniest princes of Hell to mess with with the whole made of like over nine million thousand people or souls or whatever deal. Weakness, really, true power could hold one form indefinately without having to share it. Oh well. The demon slopped grease on the floor of the enclaves, as he happened to be enjoying a pulled pork sandwich. Wait, no, it wasn't just pulled pork, that sucker had bacon on it, as well. Wherever he got that, who knew, but it sure was better than roasted Forktail.

Just as the white haired destroyer was about to make his way to Harahel's personal chamber, his attention was immediately grasped by a large aura, much larger than his already massive one. There was no questioning it. Lucifer. What was he doing here? It seemed that his plan to ruin the many's day would have to be rescheduled, because Abaddon instantly changed directions to the source of the great power. Whatever was Ol' Scratch up to, anyways? Whatever he fucking wanted to, probably. The destroyer's walk quickly turned to an excited run, quickly becoming incited in his new plans.

Of course, due to his essence, Abaddon had no means of sneaking in the room, especially in the presence of the Devil. Rather, when he reached only mere yards away from the evil aura, a swarm of locusts would flock into the room, buzzing around for a moment and swarming the lights before crawling into the many dark cracks of the complex. The large black insects were a trademark of the demon, who had a hivemind like control over the creatures. Well, moreso "control", as the bugs didn't do much thinking themselves.

"Satan, Bro-cifer!" The demon's sarcastic voice called out from the shadows, only his glaring red eyes visible. Ah yes, perhaps the most, and only demonic thing about the destroyer. "Didn't know you chilled in the Enclaves often." The rest of his mortal appearing body became visible as he stepped forward, and took notice of the other being in the room, one he hadn't seen before. Strange. And to think he knew pretty much everybody. His attention turned to this puppet like demon. Whatever he was interrupting, he didn't really care. "Haven't seen you before. Puny aura." Abaddon said while taking a large bite out of his disgusting pig sandwich, eventually finishing it and licking his fingers after a second bite. He obviously had little regard for this being.

The Destroyer turned his attention to a box brought forth by one of the demons that this mechanical guy commanded. Oh, so he ordered people around, maybe he was a bit tougher than he thought, but that remained to be seen. The box was opened to reveal several orange objects, which caused the ancient demon to smile and crack a joke, yet again. "What are those, Dragonballs?" He would release a short, and strange, chortle, sounding more like he was gasping for air than laughing.

[Lucifer]

"Yes, sir, I do have more of them. Sadly, the most I've been able to accomplish is prolonging their usage by mere minutes." Lucifer arched an eyebrow. Less than he'd expected - but the production was complete. Most excellent. "They will be here momentarily." What he liked most about the Master of Puppets was one thing above all else. It wasn't that he was obedient, nor indeed that he was creatively so, and had some of the greatest ideas licensed to echo through the halls of the Complex in eons, but infact that he was very much simply efficient. It stemmed all from that cylinder in his chest - the puppeteer at his core.

"Sometimes, Pupus, my friend," The Devil flashed a wicked smile. Madness danced in his eyes. "Minutes can make all the difference." And this was very much true. Wars had been won and lost in his time on Earth in minutes. In minutes everything could change. Love. Hate. Disgust. Reverence. In minutes - no, seconds - the switch between life, death, and rebirth could very much be made. A switch he was very much familiar with.

Pupus continued with an explanation. "We know quite a great deal about soul energy, but I believe there are many uses that have been left untouched." The Devil inclined his head. Soul energy was the currency of his own realm - and similarly he knew that, as intangible as it was, it was so insanely versatile and powerful. Manipulating the very fabric of Inferis in complete intricacy was a power only Gods could wish for. So it seemed that he was... well, befitting this. "I believe it could be used in much more devastating ways given the proper research and hours. Possibly even ways that would effect the tears between our realm and Earth?"

A wider grin emerged on the Devil's face. "You're preempting dangerous things, Pupus," He accused with a sarcastic, wagging finger, shaking his head as the crystals arrived. "But you are a productive Demon as always, and a good one at that." With that, Satan's welcoming grasp greedily laid upon the steel box he tugged towards him with a nod to Pupus, layer upon layer of glimmering orange-gold crystals sitting within the framework of the ornately-fashioned case. Cradling it remarkably with a sigh, he turned, and threw his arm around the puppet's neck. "You, my boy," Lucifer grinned. He grinned wider than he had in a while. "You're going to go far."

"Satan, Bro-cifer!" Mephistopheles' neck snapped towards the source of the noise. A plague of locusts descended upon this particular corner of the Complex. They took form at first; a vague humanoid shadow of the lightly-thrumming black specks, and it was only a moment before they forged themselves into a fleshy visage. That of his Guardian of the Lake of Fire; his apt destroyer; Apollyon; Abaddon himself. A smirk slipped out. It seemed he wasn't the only of the higher echelons of demonkind that saw it fit to take to the lands of the Faceless for a spot of sightseeing today. "Didn't know you chilled in the Enclaves often."

Samael idly shrugged. "Every now and then, for a slightly more exotic corner of the place." One couldn't get enough of the murky, shadowy, ooze that seemed to gurgle up from the depths of the Tarpits. "It's nice to get a breath of fresh... darkness every now and then." There wasn't that much brimstone in Inferis, to be quite honest; but, hey, the Enclaves were definitely closer to it than anything else. Perhaps that was an area of the whole biblical lore thing that he'd been a tad lacking in. The fire-and-brimstone shite.

"Haven't seen you before. Puny aura." The Devil felt like facepalming and turning to Pupus to offer idle apology as Abaddon ignorantly dove into his gargantuan pork sandwich. In the Enclaves? King of irony as always. "What are those, Dragonballs?" Lucifer pulled away from the puppet and snapped the box shut with a single fluid movement, and turned to his subordinate as he polished off the last of his grease-laden meal. Disrespectful or not, the Destroyer always made him smile. It was a little taste of familiarity.

Gesturing to the Demon's mouth as he swallowed down the last of the hog sandwich, Lucifer made an apt point with a grin. "I'd keep that away from Legion. He's not the greatest fan of bacon." A shame. It was one thing the mortals did well. "And have you ever thought that maybe your 'aura' is considerably larger than that of most for the fact that it's compensating for other, more physical drawbacks?" Raising his hand, Satan curled down all but his little finger, which he bent over and waggled twice. Oh, the deep-seated psychological inadequacies. How fun they were to play with. Perhaps Abaddon was Prince of Trolls, but the Devil had long-since been crowned king.

"This is a friend, and he made these for me," Satan didn't often bring pecking order into the run of things, but every now and then it became necessary; especially considering he was the only one the Destroyer bothered to pay attention to. "He has his uses and his skills, and you will treat him with the respect he deserves." Lucifer tilted his head in sheer curiosity. "How old's that form, now, anyway, kid? Must be a week or so past a couple of months," The black-clad, white-haired, blue-eyed overlord shrugged, returning his face to its original position. "Do me a favour, and don't berate me any more than you have to. Let's try and have you make the full twelve this year." It was a veiled threat that was more a joke than anything else, as fun as Abaddon was to use as a walking punchbag thanks to the whole reincarnation shindig.

Turning to the puppet, he gestured to the destroyer, and made the necessary mutual introductions. "Pupus, Abaddon, Abaddon, Pupus," Idly picking at a speck of meat still caught in his own fangs, he sighed. "Pupus makes me crystals, locust boy here kills things for me." That was a fairly accurate description of their relationship. "What brings you to the pits, anyway?"

[Pupus]

"You're preempting dangerous things, Pupus," The puppet managed a nod and chuckle as Lucifer went on to tell him how far he would go after his faux-scolding. A sound caught the demon's ears not long after. Insects, skittering about, their wings moving quickly as they made their way in alongside another visitor. This one unexpected, yet Pupus had no need to shoo whoever it was bothering them away. He had more important matters to deal with than-

"Haven't seen you before. Puny aura." Pupus' eyes narrowed, and he put his clipboard to the side. His tail flicked about, just as a scorpion being antagonized by something which had no knowledge of how dangerous its poison could be. The craftsman calmed himself as Lucifer gave lecture to the newcomer. Abaddon? The name was familiar, but, once again, this time finished, Pupus usually had more important matters to deal with than the likes of insects. Arrogant, rude, they knew not of the importance of scientific findings; intellectual work was far above them.

"I suppose it would be considered a pleasure to meet you." His head shifted to the side, his golden eyes inspecting the other demon slowly. A clicking sounded from his joints as his head straightened itself, and Pupus gave an unusual, mechanical smile. "Though the pleasure is yours alone, it seems. Ticktick."

[Abaddon]

"Every now and then, for a slightly more exotic corner of the place." Exotic. Yeah, that certainly was a word for this shithole. It was comfortable, nevertheless, not like the Tundra or Blightscape. The destroyer didn't like freezing temperatures, as they did foul things to mammary papillias, like you know, turn them into dangerous spears. "It's nice to get a breath of fresh... darkness every now and then." Of course the Devil would go on, and the Eliminator would smile at this. a fresh breath of darkness? If you were to ask him, the lot of Inferis would be better off covered in it. That would be a question for later. These were past thoughts that were not now, however, and thinking too much about them could confuse the order of the thread. For that reason, they'd best be just read and forgotten about, much like the novels you were given in high school.

"I'd keep that away from Legion. He's not the greatest fan of bacon." The destroyer thought of Lucifer using his renowned sarcasm as he finished the thing. "And have you ever thought that maybe your 'aura' is considerably larger than that of most for the fact that it's compensating for other, more physical drawbacks?" Abaddon nearly chocked on his last bit of sandwich. Insults? And by the only one who could get away with it? He wasn't sure how he felt about this, but one had a tendency to swallow their pride in the face of the Overlord. If they were smart and valued any aspect of their pitiful existence they would, anyways. Abaddon wasn't exactly the smartest of Hell's Legions, but he had his uses, so he thought to speak regardless, "Oh give me about three-hundred days, I'll get there." Nobody knew exactly what came at the end of Yahweh's cycle, some said a great beast of fire, some said a monster of pure darkness, and others, well others think that the idea of the atomic bomb stemmed from him.

"This is a friend, and he made these for me," Right, whatever, on wings of locusts Abaddon came closer to the puppet-man, looking his mechanical features over a second time. Something wasn't exactly right here, with the whole set-up of this Tarpit demon. His aura, small if you would, wasn't weak for the normal reasons it would be. It was because this body didn't radiate one whatsoever. Was he dead? Undead? An automation? All were possible. "He has his uses and his skills, and you will treat him with the respect he deserves." So he probably did, but respect still wasn't entirely a concept in the King of Locust's head. Or maybe it was, but his head as a collective was damaged, so said definition may be a bit off. Maybe. He was pretty sure, personally, that respect was something he felt for the Devil. So...treat this thing like the Devil? Okay, he thought, I guess.

"How old's that form, now, anyway, kid? Must be a week or so past a couple of months," Less, actually. Only a month and a couple odd weeks. Last year ended early, and what a fiasco that was. Anyway, it ended too early, as the last cycle of destruction ended somewhere around March, you, about this time. The destroyer's mouth opened to speak, to comment on his current age and how surely, "Do me a favour, and don't berate me any more than you have to. Let's try and have you make the full twelve this year." Surely Lucifer must already know this. Right. The conversation was brought to a stop, as there was no longer a need to carry it out any longer. As the man in black made clear.

"Pupus, Abaddon, Abaddon, Pupus," The same man gestured towards both of these demons, well if they both were so and one was not an automation. "Pupus makes me crystals, locust boy here kills things for me." Yeah that's pretty fucking accurate. Which was slowly bringing them towards their next topic, ya know, the 'question' of life, the universe, and everything. "Nice to meet'ya." Many comments and otherwise were resisted with great restraint. He really wanted to poke that cylinder thing...wait a minute, thast thing was giving off an aura. Detective Abaddon was slowly putting together a hypothesis of what this mysterious creature was. "Though the pleasure is yours alone, it seems. Ticktick." It seemed that puppet-man was laughing at him, and the Destroyer didn't like that one bit, but before another cycle could be ended, the Devil stole his attention once more. "What brings you to the pits, anyway?"

The white haired demon turned to the other, and simply shrugged his shoulders, "What can I say, I love pits." The demon's fangs glistened in the artificial light of the complex, and perhaps the only light of this land. "But really, man, it's been a while." Abaddon began, noticing that he hadn't cracked his neck since the last cycle. He rectified this slowly, which made quite the loud sound, almost embarrassingly so. But embarrassment was not something felt by the red eyed Eliminator. "It's been a while since I've toppled a city or something, thought maybe Legion," He could barely hold in the laugh, "Might have some knowledge on the topic, but now that you're here, yeah."


[[OOC: Sorry guys, forgot about this.]]

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