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⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯
"Ya know, you've always been my favorite child."
"Oz, I'm your only child."
"My statement still stands."
Asmodeus and [Y/n] sat across from each other in a familiar limousine. The same limousine that delivered her from the Pride to Lust Ring when she first arrived in Hell. As nostalgic as it was, she was more than ready to move on. Fizzarolli had stayed back in the Lust Ring since he had a gig, and overall would prefer to not go to the filthy Pentagram City.
A deep sigh left her lips, fidgeting with her porcelain fingers, her mind was hazy. If she was so ready to leave, why was she so nervous? She didn't know.
She's noticed it ever since her appearance in Hell, emotions were confusing. Either her emotions felt subtle, or she just felt numb to the point she'd stay in her bed for days staring at her ceiling. She figured it was because she was a doll now, dolls weren't supposed to feel, they were supposed to be played with. Or as she liked to do: sit in a box and look pretty.
There was one to two ways she could be pulled out of her depression. Half of the time it's Oz or Fizz encouraging her to work, take her out to clubs or blind dates, what ever they did, it worked. Maybe not her dates, but at least she found it fun to meddle with people's heart strings. Nilo has tried to help her himself, but it just wasn't the same, she'd go back into her little room and rot by the next morning.
The other way, of course, was sucking the soul out of somebody. It was one of her many abilities, and to her, souls tasted like cookies laced with cocaine. They gave her a new high nothing else could, like a drug, she'd make deals left and right just for the chance of having the pleasure of eating them. Of course, the more powerful the victim was, the more pleasurable they were. And to add more sugar to the mixture, the soul tasted better when they were truly desperate. She tastes every emotion on her tongue and memory chewed under her teeth. It was pure ecstasy, like drinking cold water in a hot desert.
