dorian ♕’s Comments (group member since Nov 28, 2020)

dorian ♕’s comments from the Grimoire’s Return. group.

“Your mother and father,” Duke spat with as just as much venom back, “we’re murdered in cold blood by the same person you have never tried to seek and destroy. Don’t you think there’s a problem with that? That you never tried to do something about it?”

Duke took a step towards Mal.

“It’s because you are afraid. Afraid of my father, afraid of a war, afraid of anything that will shatter the little fantasy you made, where you hang out with your wonderful best friend, where all you do is sit and make hats, and you go to your little witch friends’ demon huts. When in reality, there is a war brewing and you. Wont. Do. Shit. About. It.”

Duke felt his magic at his fingertips, felt it flare up his arms.

“𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒅, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅.”

Name: Aeris, Demon of Wrath

*Name, Origin, Meaning: in mythology, Aeris is the Greek god of discord and strife

Nickname: anything you’d like ;)

Age: unknown

Era of Birth: unknown

Place of Birth: Hell

Sexual Orientation: he likes who he likes a d that’s that

Relationship Status: open

Occupation:

Appearance: https://pin.it/7NExaHe , https://pin.it/5B4S2zp

Height: taller than you.

Weight: unknown

Hair: Ebony Ash

Eyes: Ivory White, the color that represents Wrath in his world

Body: Lean and built, mainly from sword practice and trying not to get murdered by demons during training sessions

Voice: deep and scratchy, yet soft and gentle

Distinguishable Markings: A tattoo, on his waistline, of a white rose, which normally represents death in its entirety.

Dress Style: (note if they enjoy wearing sweaters, tank tops, if they like to wear long pants or shorts, if they like to dress formally in gowns and suits, etc): preferably, he wears things that are currently in style, o he likes to wear jackets, comfortable billowy shirts, britches, and nice boots

Fighting Style (optional; this is the way they fight in battle [relying mostly on brute strength, using a lot of martial arts, etc]): Being that he has the power to summon Hellflame, you would expect him to rely on it, but no. He more relies on his smaller abilities, like his ability to anger others, and his sword fighting skills

Personality: (5+ Sentences): Aeris is… a lot. He’s cold to a lot of people, normally waiting for them to come to him and not the other way around. He isn’t close with very many people, and has a tendency to think the worse of others so he doesn’t get hurt (thought Princes of Hell don’t get hurt very easily, do they?) . He is a firm believer in Murphy’s Law, and will believe the worse situation simply because have has been in every worse situation known to man.

Likes: books, his pet Hellhound (Lilith), his siblings (SOMETIMES), ships

Dislikes: people, his siblings

Hobbies & Interests: N/A

Strengths: everything about him is

Weaknesses: his tendency not to get attached to other for fear of getting hurt, the fact that he hates his siblings to the point where he would rather die than talk to them, when someone brings up his father

History: (5+ sentences, include key notes): To be Known…. ;)

Relations: He doesn’t know for his mother is, being that she died during shortly after birthing Aeris.

He has a horrible relationship with his father, who abused him throughout all of his childhood, turning him into the cold hearted bastard that he is now.

He hates his siblings simply because they watched his father hurt him and didn’t do anything about it.

Favorite Colors: White

Favorite Flower: Carnation

Favorite Foods: Cruller

Fears: Abandonment, Lost

Flaws: His cold heartttt

Dreams: N/A

Theme Song: N/a

Type of Demoni: Prince of Hell, specifically Wrath

“You want to leave these people to die? YOUR people? What it was your mother and father?”

Duke crossed his arms. He knew it was a low blow, but he knew he would take even lower ones to protect the people of this city.

Maybe that made him a villain.

Maybe he didn’t care.

Duke looked at Devorak. “Will you help us? Please. Just for the time being.”

Duke sighed. “Okay, then. What about me as king?”

It was a risky suggestion, and it was also equally dumb as fuck, but maybe, just MAYBE, it could work.

But he needed help.

“I know plenty about the war.”

It was stupid. But they were at their breaking point, the point of jo return. It was either this or death.

“Mal has a lot of rebel friends, I imagine— oh, don’t give me that look, Malory, I didn’t lie— so, I think it’s time we stage a coup. I think it’s time the citizens finally get their revenge on the King, on all that he has done to them, Malory most of all.”

Then, that would place him as the next King.

And he would be able to handle the war.

Duke tilted his head. Rightfully so, he had no reason to trust Devorak, whether he was good meaning or not. He felt like their was something underfoot, something in the current.

But… the possibility of leaving…

Duke considered it. Then he shook his head. “I- I can’t. I can’t leave my land at the hands of soldiers to kill and massacre and maim my people. I can’t leave them at the hands of my FATHER.”

He already hurt the people enough.

But maybe it was time for a new rule.

“But I do need your help.”

Duke tilted his head at the digits around him. The way the room HUMMED with magic, sung it’s song in markings and decorations and in the tea he had sipped.

Was the man a warlock? Was he a demon? 𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝑴𝒂𝒍 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆?

Duke stood up suddenly, knocking his cup over. “I am Prince Darian of Aenia. And as your future rule, I request to know your name and your alliance. Your creed. Who. Are. You.” He asked if the man in front of him, the one with one eye hidden.

Then Darian looked at Mal. “Why did you bring me here?” Duke’s eyes began to glow with his power.

Duke felt the magic on him loosen. He wondered why it had happened…

Unless it was Malory.

That was plausibly unbelievable, because if ANYONE would be discovered to be a Maleficaria, it would be Malory. It just made sense.

But maybe it made so much sense that that’s why he was able to hide it.

Duke lifted the cup of liquid to his lips and sipped it. It was an elixir of sorts, making him stronger and way more relaxed, less tense and his magic repleted.

He was still covered in blood, though.

Duke set the cup down and shoved a hand through his golden locks. The hat Mal gave him was lost while he was… killing those soldiers, and he wondered if Malory would be mad about it. He wondered if he cared about Malory being mad.

He was to die, anyway.

Duke looked at the man, at the way he moved around the home. Distantly, he felt scared, wondered if the spell that had hold of him was going to last forever, if he was made to stand still and stay silent for eternity.

He felt Mal tug on his hand a bit, and found himself, being led to a chair. He felt a command in his head to sit, to obey, and he did just that. He sat in a wooden chair, surprised that it didn’t break with how much it creaked beneath his weight.

He looked at Mal.

Duke’s breathing started to get harsher. Where were they? Why did Mal take him here? Was he going to die? Was he—

His eyes searched the room. Designs hanging in the walls, a dreamcatcher here, and upside down there.

Where the fuck were they?

The world stopped.

Duke stopped.

He couldn’t move.

And he wasn’t sure why.

He could only move his eyes, which flickered Arline, looking for the source of why he couldn’t move. He faintly felt something drip onto his cheek; blood? Tears? He didn’t even know. His chest started hitching; he could breathe, but very faintly.

Duke followed Mal, not really thinking. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do right now. The alarm continued, annoyingly blazing into his skull.

He was going into shock.

I mean, that what was obviously happening.

When Mal kneeled beside the water, Duke just continued walking. Towards the palace. He was ready to turn himself in.

Duke panted, his clothes now splattered. Distantly, he heard the palace alarms go off, a loud, ringing sound.

He wondered if he would be tortured first, or would his father just kill him.

He wondered which one he preferred.

He turned his eyes onto Malory, who stared open eyes a the scene. “Mal? Are you-“

Duke lifted up a hand to wipe the blood dripping into his eye.

“Are you okay?”

Y E S

Duke winced internally at how quickly Mal turned around. It had taken them this long to finally get to some sort of dynamic or bind, yes, but it still hurt to see that Mal would believe his dark threats so quickly.

Even if he did mean it.

Even if he would kill Blanque to save his skin.

It made him selfish, yes, but people became worse than that in a time of war.

Duke’s gold eyes began to glow white with his power. The power of stars. The power of the Star Orion. His chest began to glow. Then Duke turned towards the soldiers.

Duke looked at Mal’s retreating back. He needed Mal here. He needed proof that what he was doing was good and it wasn’t bad and he need someone on his side.

Someone that WASN’T some maiden madly in love with him.

So he pulled out the one card he could think of. “Malory, if you don’t stay with me, I’ll— I’ll kill Blanque.”

Duke debated the internal struggles in his head. Some history of Aenia:

Aenia wasn’t very found of magic users. Especially Maleficaris like Duke. Countless times that have been burned, tortured, and became prisoners of war. It didn’t help that the worse oppressor against Maleficaria was the current king, aka DUKE’S FATHER.

But.

But all those people in the palace would die. And if he had to die to protect his people, so be it. He glanced at Mal. “If you say a word about what I’m going to do, I will RIP YOUR THROAT OUT.”

*I DIDNT MEAN TO ITALIZE IT ALL, IUST HATS AND KILL US I HATE MOBILE*

Duke’s legs seemed to turn to water, his blood boiled, his senses became heightened. “Your probably don’t know, Mal, since your more focused hats and all, but these soldiers are the warring ones. Their the ones that want to kill us .

Duke’s breath seem to hitch. What were the soldiers doing here? This wouldn’t make sense, it was the midnight, and everyone in the city was at the ball in the palace—

“They’re planning an attack.”

“Is it quite hot, actually,” Duke grumbled, but he buttoned his shirt. He followed Mal down the different twists and turns of the palace yard, without alerting any guards. They were quite always from the palace, close to the Town Square, when Duke paused.

“Malory? Who are they?”

Duke pointed to shadows some it’s away. The moon was half, so they could barely see them, but Duke could see the glint of red of whatever they were wearing. He raised his brows.