#wrathful personified (IC)

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @pairoleplays

"Well, would you rather have Miss Charlie speak with you? I won't tell anyone without your direct permission, sir." Don understood why Alastor wasn't wanting to disclose his history, since he only disclosed his memories of his past mortal life to only Charlie due to trust issues.

"You don't have to share anything personal, just a random part of your past history will suffice unless she asks for more." At the most, he was patient towards the Radio Demon, careful to not do or say anything that could provoke him without warning.

[brielledoesastrology]

"Pride before downfall" Asteroids in astrology

by : Brielledoesastrology (tumblr)

"Don't fly too close to the sun"

asteroid Icarus (1566), asteroid phaeton (3200), asteroid hybris (430), niobe (71)

1566,3200,430,71

Icarus (1566) -

Daedalus, a mythical inventor, created wings made of feathers and wax to escape from Crete where he and his son Icarus, were held captive by King Minos. Icarus however ignored his father's warnings and flew too close to the sun. His wings melted and he fell into the sea where he met his end.

Source : thecollector.com

.

Phaeton (3200) -

Phaethon asked to be allowed to drive the chariot of the sun through the heavens for a single day. Helios, bound by his oath, had to let him make the attempt. Phaethon set off but was entirely unable to control the horses of the sun chariot, which came too near to the earth and began to scorch it. To prevent further damage, zeus hurled a thunderbolt at Phaethon, who fell to the earth at the mouth of the Eridanus, a river later identified as the Po.

Source : britannica.com

.

Hybris (430) - "Hubris"

HYBRIS was the goddess or personified spirit (daimona) of insolence, hubris, violence, reckless pride, arrogance and outrageous behaviour in general.

Source : www.theoi.com

.

Niobe (71) -

Niobe was a mortal who boasted of her many children, incurring the wrath of the gods. As punishment for her pride, Apollo and Artemis killed all her children, shooting them with arrows.

⚠️ Warning : i consider this asteroid as prominent or brings the most effect if it conjuncts ur personal planets (sun,moon,venus,mercury,mars) and if it conjuncts ur personal points (ac,dc,ic,mc), i use 0 - 2.5 orbs (for conjunctions). For sextile, trine, opposite and square aspects to asteroids i usually use 0 - 2 orbs. Yes tight conjunctions of planet / personal points to asteroids tends to give the most effect, but other aspects (sextile,trine,square,opposite, etc) still exist, even they produce effects. If it doesn't aspect any of your planets or personal points, check the house placement of the asteroid, maybe some stuff/topics relating to this asteroid could affect some topics/stuff relating to the house placement . ⚠️

[novankenn]

J/C - the Idols of Beacon

--==(Table of Contents) ==--

(Chapter Six - Through the gates of HELL)

It was one day until Monday. One day to suffer through before Carla was sure that she would be free of the Wraith of Vengeful Retribution that had been visiting her and Joan for the last two days. Coco Adel was once again in their dorm, this time giving the pair a crash course on make-up and basic proper skincare.

Joan was in a slightly better place, if only because Carla was certain at any moment Coco would realize that Carla was in fact Cardin and then would proceed to curb stomp her into oblivion. However she was confused by Joan's reactions to Coco. Carla knew CFVY, in particular Coco and Velvet had no issues with Jaune, aka Joan.

Joan was suffering, but not in the sense that Carla was. No Joan was petrified by Coco's blatant displays of attraction. A touch here, a compliment there. Coco taking extra time to explain things, and demonstrate techniques on Joan. But the icing on the cake was the soft whispers that Coco would utter whenever she was close to Joan's ears. Joan was sure she was going to pass out just from the amount of blood being pumped into her cheeks forming a deeper and deeper blush on her pale skin.

"By the brothers... you look so sweet," Coco whispered as she used Joan to demonstrate to the pair how to apply mascara. "I could just EAT you up this very second."

Coco was enjoying her teasing of Joan, and would do it to Carla, but she could tell from Carla's body language that the young woman was terrified of her. Which she thought was rather strange. But Joan, oh sweet, innocent, delectable Joan. The things that her sublime form did to Coco was making it very hard for the Fashionista to keep from dragging the blonde into her room and teaching her the pleasures of the intimate touch of a woman.

"Are... are we done?" Joan stammered, desperately wishing she could bail and lock herself in her room.

"Almost." Coco replied as she leaned back to critique her masterpieces. "Yep. You two are sex appeal personified. I am so good."

"Okay! Th...thanks... I guess you can... can go?" Carla stammered out hoping to get the specter of justified wrath out of the dorm.

"NoPe." Coco replied, instantly making Carla's heart fall into her stomach, while Joan's jumped into her throat. "Go wash it off, and then come back and do it yourself while I watch."

"But... but..."

"None of that. I can't be coming here everyday to do your make-up." Coco cut of Joan, "I don't understand how you two... as cute as you are have NEVER used make-up. Like where did you grow up? A cave?"

"That... that... was sort of mean." Joan responded, her face involuntarily unleashing an epic pout that made Coco swoon.

"I... I... sorry." Coco admitted, as she fought back the impulse to crush her lips against Joan's.

With Coco's attention focused on Joan, Carla took her chance. Standing up from her chair, before her dressing table Carla made the motion to head for the bathroom, before spinning on her heels and bolting for her bedroom.

"CARLA what the HELL! Get back here!" Coco shouted as Carla crossed the living room. "What has gotten into you girl?"

Carla was in her room with the door locked before Coco was bale to do anything. Dropping to her behind she leaned her back against the door, hoping her slender frame could help prevent Coco from breaching.

"Joan, go clean up... while I deal with Carla."

"You're not going to..." Joan hesitated.

"Joan?"

"Hurt her? Please don't!" Joan pleaded.

"What the hell? You are acting like Carla has done something for me to be angry about. What the hell?" Coco was rather shocked at Joan's statement. "I'm not going to to do anything aside from get her out of her room, and back to her lessons."

Joan just nodded an rose from her own dressing table and made her way to the bathroom, while Coco walked over and tried the door-knob to Carla's room.

"Carla, unlock this door, and come out." Coco called out. "We don't have time for this. Now come on, why are you acting so scared of me?"

Coco waited until Joan had returned from the bathroom, and had taken her seat before her dressing table.

"Carla... DO NOT make me call Professor Goodwitch." Coco sighed when she heard the lock click, and fixed a disappointed look upon her face as the door inched open. "Enough of this. I'm not going to do anything to you. I really don't understand where you and Joan got this idea from."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine. Go clean up. We're almost out of time." Coco instructed as she stepped out of Carla's way.

So for the next forty-five minutes Joan and Carla practiced, under Coco's careful observation. Ever so slowly the actions became smoother and their technique more and more fluid. A knock on the door had the trio turn towards the door.

"Right on time." Coco stated as she stepped back from her students. "Go wash up and then get changed into your workout clothes."

"Why?" Joan asked as Carla was the first to reach the bathroom.

"Your personal trainer is here."

"Personal trainer?" Carla questioned as she exited the bathroom after amazingly clearing off her make-up in record time. "Why do we have a personal trainer?"

"General fitness and conditioning? I don't know the specifics, just that she would be here today."

Joan entered the bathroom to take off her own make-up, as Carla vanished into her room. A second series of knocks had Coco moving to the door, as Joan finished up and entered her own bedroom.

"Oh!" Coco exclaimed as she opened the door. "This is a surprise! They are going to be stoked that it's you."

"Please, this is going to be hard enough. What if their fans?" Pyrrha asked as she stepped into the dorm.

"You got this girl. Just put your foot down..."

"PYRRHA!" screeched Joan at the sight of her former partner standing in the entrance way in basic work-out gear.

"NIKOS!" Carla screamed in abject terror at the sight of the student that had demolished her and her former team... solo.

"Um... HI? It's a pleasure to..." the slamming of a pair of doors cut off Pyrrha's introduction.

"Don;t ask me. " Coco replied to Pyrrha's unasked question. "They are really high-strung, and prone to stuff like this. Don't take it personally."

"It's a little hard to not take that personally... I've never had that type of reaction before."

"You want my help, to get the out?"

"Please?"

[zorkaya-moved]

❛ make me indifferent, make me horrible. ❜ mya oak mya oak my- AJSHSHDHDG

@furiaei

Does the fire ever listens to anyone but its own rage?

Oak Casket finds herself wondering about that when the woman of rage and sun-like fire stepped onto her doorstep. Each step spoke of power, of determination, of endless potential to reach into the depths and drag out the skeletons of monsters. A morbid power, but a power nonetheless.

A fellow sinner and a fellow Syndicate-born, isn't she? A beautiful rendition of what power can be personified as. Mya had never showed an ounce of weakness, never showed anything but her true self: the vibrant, the living, the unforgiving. She was a part of the world of the living, something the silver haired undertaker had no interest in aside from witnessing the chaos (of her own creation) and watching countless deaths become salvations to those who suffered.

But Mya doesn't want to die. She doesn't want to seek salvation because her heart claws for vengeance, for revenge against the faux God of this world. The Mania runs deep, wrath taking shape in glorious red and deep voices (demands). Make me indifferent, make me horrible. Does she insinuate Oak Casket are all those things? How correct Mya would be in that assessment, watching the dual-colored gaze study her only for a moment.

It's a shame that the one who Mya comes to is not someone who would indulge such wishes, instead looking at her with an impassive glance before returning to her book. Dainty fingers clothed in dark fabric of her gloves turn the pages as she relaxes in her seat, not looking away from the words on the yellow-ish pages (they smell like old libraries, such long-forgotten buildings and such long-forgotten temples of knowledge).

"What you are asking asks for me to enter the world of the living, and it is not something I am interested in," Oak speaks calmly, her voice not shaking from the intimidation Mya could inspire within others. The fire must be feared, it hurts and burning will forever be the most painful way to go. However, Oak Casket is frigid. While Mya shines like fire, Oak Casket reflects the light akin to ice. "To become indifferent, you must abandon your revenge. To become horrible? Are we all not already? Only when you are dead will I know if you were truly horrible, only the end will tell me if you've reached the levels you wished for,"

The Listener sighs softly, putting her handmade bookmark between the old pages before closing it with a soft 'flop'. If her guest will not stop coming, then she must accept their company until Dudu comes over. Perhaps, the Phoenix will find the company of the fire personified rather fitting. They burn with life, but one is a fire of resurrection while the other is a fire of destruction.

"Indifference cannot go along with any emotion. You are not fit for indifference," Oak explains as she stands up from her chair, holding the book carefully in her hands. The poems written in this one are morbid and tragic, a longing for dead poets wished to embrace yet needed to live to share their words with the world. Does Mya want to share any words like those poets? What will be her confessions? Drenched in blood and coated in ashes, scorched beneath. "Now, is that what you truly wish for?"

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed - Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis

Above all else, Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis is a triumph of production design. From the intricately detailed miniature models and matte paintings to the elaborate costumes and soundstages to the charming Harryhausen-inspired stop-motion creature effects, every cent of the enormous budget is clearly evident. Hell, even the lighting—the radiant shimmer of sunlight reflecting off the surface of turbulent water, the eerie pale glow of the full moon peering through a blanket of dry ice clouds, the ominous neon glare of supernatural power—is absolutely immaculate.

The film’s spectacular imagery perfectly matches its themes, which revolve around the conflict between tradition and modernization. At the dawn of the twentieth century, Japan’s cultural leaders have become increasingly obsessed with urban redevelopment as a means of competing on the world stage. Rich industrialists, for example, propose the erection of towering skyscrapers that rival the gods in stature—ostentatious symbols of material wealth (as well as hubris, considering the country’s frequent earthquakes). Nationalistic, xenophobic militarists, on the other hand, argue for “practicality” over hollow aesthetics—borders, walls, and fortifications have far more strategic value than gaudy architecture. Scientists, meanwhile, prefer technological advancement to politics and commerce, embracing the logistical challenges of constructing a vast subterranean railway system. Those attuned to spiritual matters—monks, mediums, practitioners of geomancy—urge these various parties to exercise caution and moderation in their pursuit of the “future,” warning that such unrestrained expansion risks irrevocably tarnishing the sanctity of the land, thus provoking the wrath of ancestral ghosts and guardian deities. “Progress,” after all, can be a destructive force; occasionally, building something new requires burning down the old. These concerns, however, are dismissed as invalid and irrelevant—as obsolete as magic and mysticism in the era of automobiles, engineering, and electricity.

Despite this compelling premise, the plot is rather jumbled, disjointed, and unfocused. Among the sprawling (and bloated) ensemble cast, no single character ever really emerges as a true “protagonist”; vaguely sketched archetypes are introduced rapidly and vanish just as abruptly, only to reappear at seemingly random intervals. In terms of personality and motivation, they’re nearly indistinguishable; consequently, the audience has little opportunity to form a proper relationship with them. Basically, they’re merely props, existing for the sole purpose of communicating exposition and propelling the story from one set piece to the next—they’re functional, but not terribly memorable.

Fortunately, the central villain alleviates this flaw to a significant degree. With his dark, sunken eyes and sharp, almost skeletal facial features, Yasunori Kato is instantly iconic—the epitome of “screen presence.” He exudes menace, personifies malice; every deliciously diabolical line of dialogue that he delivers in his deep, gravelly growl is pure poetry, sending chills of terror down the viewer’s spine. Any scene that excludes him suffers for the omission—though even when he’s absent, his implicit threat still lingers, haunting the frame like a lurking specter, a whispered promise of calamity and impending doom.

Ultimately, director Akio Jissoji’s competent craftsmanship compensates for the movie’s minor formal and structural shortcomings; some mild narrative incoherence notwithstanding, Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis rarely fails to entertain. At the very least, it deserves credit for sheer ambition; precious few blockbusters nowadays dare to be this defiantly audacious and unconventional. Indeed, its superficial blemishes simply make its stylistic virtues more obvious and admirable. Warts and all, it is an essential genre masterpiece, worthy of being ranked alongside such horror classics as The Exorcist, Phantasm, and A Nightmare on Elm Street.

[phoenixduelist]

"You have traveled quite a ways." Calypso walked calmly out of her traven, tilting her head at the woman. Her gaze neither mad or pleased simply....curious. "And you've come with purpose, haven't you?"

“Segíts” (Help me) the tortured whisper almost unheard, the rowboat swaying in the still water to the shakes of her body

“JONES!!!! ”

It was a war cry in the wildest thunder she ever sailed in. Words traveled faster than one could predict, especially about the death of an officer of such high rank. Or maybe the wretched Lord used the Admiral even in his death as he figured her out well enough to predict the reaction upon such news. And indeed he did; the Vihar rushing towards its supernatural target, it's already formidable speed fueled by the brewing storm and the Devil's infernal wrath.

Of course the Flying Dutchman watched the willingly coming prey, not even answering to the arrival by canonfire. Laughter accompanied the human woman landing on the deck until she roared the cursed captain's name with blades drawn and hellfire in her eyes.

It took a few seconds to register that she has used her first language, her torn mind desperately trying to find the right words in the right language.

“I-I don't know how should I call you. Jack...Jack has told tales about you.” Rozália managed to explain how could she find her, being reminded of the purpose was akin to having the shards of her heart stepped on, further grounded into darkness

A glance at the unresponsive man in the boat blew the shards into particles.

"Do yah fear death?" a mockery and a threat in one.

Emerald on fire noticed the familiar sword in his slimy grip.

“Do I fucking look like I do?! ” fangs bared like a feral animal, voice booming louder than the raging thunder

Most of the time Rozália fenced with level head, with an ice cold heart but this time her steps, her strikes carried savage frenzy, a soul ablaze with loss. She hadn't come with the intent to kill; she had no interest in bearing an eternal curse nor could she perform the necessary for such act. It was an extremely faint hope built on tales, fables, hardly a plan. Instead she came to find a weak spot of the immortal being as no one has ever said he was also invulnerable.

The discovery was worth the harsh kick of -what she previously thought of a peg leg- a crab leg, damascus steel sending sparks flying on the deck as she steadied her tumble. If she was injured, Rozália couldn't feel her wounds only liquid lightning in her blood which drove her forward with renewed force as it was sure that the facial tentacle she had cut off long before did not regenerate.

“He...he said you can ressurect the dead and I...believe him.” she always did. The other eccentric Captain might have colored a few adventures, but she didn't doubt this one. She couldn't deny the last hope otherwise she would fall into the already waiting abyss lapping at her feet.

She hasn't noted nor managed to get her tremors under control even after stepping out of the boat to reveal the man. She refused to travel next to him, better said his corpse, so before the trip Viola carefully closed his eyes, fixed his clothing and laid the perfectly crafted sword next to him as if he was only sleeping.

By now the madwoman was regarded as a threat, yet the crew didn't interfere, unsure of the whole purpose of the unfolding events. When the deceased Admiral's sword was knocked out of the Dutchman's Captain's grip they were eager to replace it with an another blade, failing to notice how the beautifully forged sword disappeared. Along with the Admiral's body.

Rozália was the storm personified, a whirlwind of deathly rage and instead of a slice, with one lightning strike thrust she buried her saber into Davy Jones' right eye. Twisting the curved blade to ensure her work she jumped back, the roar of agony came a second late. Her crazed grin would have made even the actual Satan halt.

The swordfight became a cruel game, a desperate attempt to save remaining vision but he took everything from her. It was only fair if she attempted to return the favor. The claw cut on her chest burned, a panicked opponent was unpredictable, even if the speed of her movements couldn't be followed by naked eye. Her decision held little to no regard to her life: sabers spun back to their sheath, she lunged at the Captain with a bestial roar, her own reflection looking back at her before her claws dug into the left eye socket and ripped the remaining one out with an infernal scream.

“Do you fear ME?! ” the question spat back with ferocity as she effortlessly evaded the blind Ferryman's blows

“I am the Devil of the Seven Seas and no curse can stand between you and my wrath. Nothing and no one will spare you from me.” the monster of thunder with gold fangs declared, her fist dripping with the blood of an immortal with his right eye in her grip. The Devil dived into the stormy waters a second after.

While Rozália dashed into her suicide duel with Davy Jones both as vengeance and distraction, Marcell rescued what left of the Admiral, Miklós stealthily swiped his signature sword when opportunity presented itself, Aranka and Jácint ensured their part went smoothly by silencing cursed crewmen wandering too close. Mátyás and Márta were wrestling with the wheel to keep the Vihar steady in the vicious storm mirroring their Captain's state. The others were waiting for the arrivals and after the insane captain climbed up to the Vihar, they took off before the enemy could even compherend what had happened.

They found themselves in a swamplike area, yet for once Rozália was sure where they were heading and it led them to the mysterious woman.

The Devil hasn't noticed the uncontrollable river or tears running down her face, all it would take was a simple shake of head to shatter her completely.

“Kérlek...Bring him back”

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @mxthbladed

"I was just wondering if you still feel the pain of losing them, despite getting your wings back, Miss Vaggie... I can still feel the pain of how I died, gives me a lot of painful headaches and hinders me from functioning normally in general." Don's right hand went up to rub his scar on his forehead.

"I may have a high pain threshold, but that doesn't stop the pain in my head from being hard to deal with."

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @mxthbladed

"Is it related to security? Because I think I'm scheduled to work the night patrol unless you and/or Miss Charlie made a change to my schedule for some reason."

Don didn't mind the changes to his schedule, as long as he was able to maintain a normal sleep cycle, walking over to grab the kettle from one of the kitchen's cabinets, filling it with water from the kitchen sink then placing it on the stove to heat up on low heat.

"Remember: I'm here to help if you need it, I don't mind doing other tasks that aren't related to my duties as a security guard."

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @themosthatedbeingg

Being scratched didn't make Don react in pain, only observing His King as he took his left hand to feel it before scratching it, nodding as he saw a bit of blood emerge slightly from the scratch mark on the back of his hand.

"It is... Don't worry, just need to wash my hand and wrap a bandage around it, so it won't be a bother to my duties." But he was mentally relived that Lucifer was back to reality.

"Are you okay at the moment? I can stay and help with whatever else is bothering you, if you want, Sir Lucifer."

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @themosthatedbeingg

"If you want to... But I suggest doing it in an open area, spreading your wings in the room might result in something being knocked over on accident, Sir Lucifer." The hotel guard had seen His King's wings twice, the first time was when he came to the hotel, the second time was during the exterminator war.

Six wings... They still amazed him internally to this day.

"I was reading some information about birds the other day, and the dust bathing is what got my attention since we do have a few winged individuals aside from you in the hotel." Of course, Don was talking about Vaggie and Husk, he didn't want to ask them the same question since it might be too personal for them, hence the reason he went to find His King out of sheer curiousity.

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @themosthatedbeingg

"I see... Ducks are interesting birds, how they're able to glide through water and just live life as they like." Plus, Don couldn't admit that the rubber ducks were cute, he could see why Charlie likes them.

"Are there any certain rubber ducks you enjoyed creating? I think you and your daughter should spend some time making them."

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @alastors-radioshow

While the Radio Demon was preparing the warm beverages, Don’s right hand fingers began to twitch slightly, almost trembling when a low grunt escaped his throat.

... It seems that even in his attempt to get some decent sleep, the nightmares of his past trauma were still able to attack his mind.

“...”

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @alastors-radioshow​

“Hello, Mr Alastor.” Don greeted back with his usual bow of respect.

“There’s a lot of things you’ve missed following the recent yearly cleanse... Seems the leader of the exterminators, the First Human, Adam... He’s been getting more dangerous with each cleanse... He was even powerful enough to halt time entirely, thus trapping Hell in a endless Cleanse until His Creator seemed to put an end to it.”

The yearly cleanse was the first thing that came up to his mind, especially with the reminder that as long as Adam was alive, the cleanses would keep going until Hell was entirely gone... Or... Adam himself was erased entirely.

“Other than that, it’s been the usual unless our allies have done something to catch my attention entirely.”

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @letsstaytuned

"It's alright, Miss Charlie." Don had just gotten out of the shower, about to dry up until he heard the door knob to his room turn, immediately wrapping his towel around his lower half and turned around just to see Charlie enter his room.

"I can move back to my bathroom to change while you inspect my room, if that's okay with you? I should have locked my door, just assumed it was Miss Niffty coming in to clean my room." He kept a tight grip on his towel, not minding Charlie accidentally staring at his half-naked body... Well, he did, but it wasn't out of lust or anything related to that matter... It was more out of modesty and respect, he was trained to be a proper gentleman, after all.

[wrxthfulguard]

(CLOSED) Starter for Letsstaytuned

@letsstaytuned

The hotel's been quiet for a while... And for Don, he noticed something was off... Because none of the radios that were placed around the hotel weren't playing anything from Alastor's radio tower.

While some of the hotel's staff and residents were quite okay with the silence, some were worried, asking Don and Charlie to check on Alastor to see what was going on with him.

Don volunteered to check on Alastor for his boss, heading over to where Alastor's room was located.

"... Mr Alastor, it's Don... Is everything okay there?" He inquired as he gently knocked on the door to his room.

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @hamactiia

"Well... It's a long story, but to start: The Princess went to the Heaven Embassy to talk to whoever was in charge of the yearly exterminations... Turns out she met the leader of the exterminator army, the First Man, Adam... The meeting to try and stop the exterminations backfired badly, with Adam moving up the date of the next extermination by 6 months instead of the next year."

The hotel guard sighed as he shook his head at this.

"... Miss Charlie then decided to try to talk to Adam's higher-ups, which meant she needed a way to get to Heaven... She called her father, King Lucifer for help... And after a few... Situations in where she showed her father the hotel and its purpose for redeeming sinners... He gave her a portal and a meeting to Heaven... Which was good... Until the Princess and her girlfriend were invited to a court meeting with the higher-ups of Heaven... The Seraphim... And another encounter with Adam." Don decided to not tell Robo-Fizz about Adam and his lieutenant revealing Vaggie's past as a former exterminator angel, instead moving to the end of the court hearing.

"... Heaven has no clue on how a soul is redeemed, with no proof of the hotel working to redeem sinners, Adam dug the metaphoric knife deeper by deciding that the hotel would the first target of the upcoming extermination... And thus resulted in the Princess and the rest of the hotel fighting against Adam and his exterminators in a war, we did get help from the people of the Pride Ring's Cannibal Town and was given holy weapons from Miss Carmine, a holy arms dealer who is one of the Pride Ring's overlords." Alastor wasn't mentioned, unsure what would happen if his deal with Charlie for a favor was told to Mammon.

"We fought the exterminators on the day of the war, the Princess was about to be killed by Adam at one point, only for King Lucifer to drop in to save her at the last minute, giving the First Man a beatdown for endangering her... We won the war... When a weakened Adam was... Killed by one of our own via multiple stab wounds to the back... It was our tiny housekeeper that did it... The war was won, but we lost two of our own people in the process... And the fight between Adam and King Lucifer resulted in the full destruction of the hotel."