PHOENIX. [sequel to 067]

22. archons.

"hello, everyone, a feast shall be held in your honor as we speak and discuss our matters. i know there will be some things of interest to you all," the tsaritsa speaks slowly and calmly. her cold pale hands wave over the table while she does, "i see you all signed the contract, lovely."

she takes her time speaking to the group of archons, much to dottore's annoyance. he would much rather have this interaction be kept to a minimum; after all, surely, several of the archons remember him and his appearance. especially barbatos, of whom's nation he had to manipulate and deceive. or attempt to. the very same man of whom his co-worker ... humiliated and physically assaulted in front of everyone. then, morax, of whom his lowly subordinate attempted to destroy his nation. the destruction had no sole purpose beyond the fact tartaglia had gotten bored, and wasted several funds of the fatui's. though, he's the tsartisa's favorite so ... he could get away with just about everything.

another one of the servant girls, of who dottore knows a bit too well - personal history, walks by the group and begins to pour glasses of wine. she skips over kusanali, probably as her form is that of a child's while she pours. as she does so, another servant, male, emerges from the kitchen holding small servings bread, freshly baked.

the bowl full of slices of bread, which smells of milk bread (one of dottore's favorites,) is sat down in the middle of the large table. though, not everyone could reach it, but that isn't much of an issue, as the tsaritsa only wishes to spoil the other archons. after all, all she wills for is peace over the nations - and the destruction of celestia - but mostly peace. and well, dottore could only assume that would be her main talking point today.

after all, who would held a "meeting" and lead with "here's food, let's destroy celestia together."? no-one would.

"well, archons, before we begin, you all must have some sort of loved one ... whose perished, no? it seems it's almost a requirement to be an archon!" the tsaritsa jokes with a large smile. though, behind her smile, her eyes have a sort of ... dim, to them. it never takes much effort for dottore to tell when she's playing a mask, manipulating the fools around her, as he does the same. it's rather easy to notice the behaviors you do in others, afterall.

a few of the six respond, agreeing they've lost loved ones. for morax, it's his long lost lover ; the goddess of dust. for barbatos, it's his friend of whom his form resembles. for baal, it's her sister of whom she appears as. surely, more have lost loved ones, dottore could see their grimaces. even if they fabricated a mask, he could view through it. the plus sides of being a scientist, where his job is mostly that of observation, he sees all.

he sees all. all of their faces, despite how hard they attempted to hide their grimaces and discomfort, he knew. morax's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of passing, barbatos took a sip of his drink, baal began to twirl the strands of her braids between her fingers and a long sigh left her lips. he knew.

"either way, whether you have or haven't, i have a wonderful proposition for all of you. which will be discussed after dinner, naturally," the tsaritsa says softly while the tips of her lips straighten into a rather odd looking grin.