Common

Asmodeus does not allow himself to grow too hopeful in his quest. The odds are high that all of the familiar faces he knows have moved on to other things, and he does not begrudge them their decision. At least, not most of them. If he should ever run into Marceline again, they will certainly have much to discuss.

It is not Marceline that approaches him now, though it is indeed a familiar face. Not one that had ever deigned to live with him, but someone he knows nonetheless. Another mare he has long admired, albeit for slightly different reasons. Where Marceline and Nyimara were both occasionally mercurial, acting first and (sometimes) explaining second, Arsinoe had always represented something different to him. She was steady. Loyal to someone - family, he assumed - and dependable.

She might not like him much, as evidenced by the day he met Aesara, but she didn't seem to hate him.

They stand together in silence for long moments, and he watches her from the corner of his eye. Her belly is round with child, and he tells himself it is of no consequence, but he is not wholly honest with himself. The echo of his father was quiet, mostly, but still possessive. Still insatiable. Still clearly unable to read a room, the chimera chides himself, cocking his weaker back leg. Arsinoe was not and had never been his. At most, they had been allies, but even that was stretching the truth.

Arsinoe had needed a father for her child, and Asmodeus had seen an opportunity. It did not have to be deeper than that.

Asmodeus tucks that line of thought away and turns his head to regard her head-on as she speaks. A soft huff of amusement answers her questions at first, and his eyes glitter with a complicated mix of emotions. The Desert. The place he'd started as a prisoner and nearly ended up ruling, were it not for the likes of Helios and Nyimara.

"Afraid not," he answered, a grin teasing along the edges of his lips. "I have my sights on a crown that's a little less dusty and a little more tropical." Of course, the monarchy was going to have to take a back seat while he healed, but he had every intention of gaining it this time. No more excuses.

"All yours for the taking." He offered a wink, but then let his gaze skim to the Crossing for a moment, debating what he wanted to say next. She smelled of the Badlands still, her unique scent twined with that of Salem even after her swim, which implied to him that she was likely here to do the same thing he was, not to find a home of her own.

"What is Salem like these days?" Asmodeus turns back to her as he asks, trying not to overplay his hand. Any information on Nyimara was invaluable, and it would not hurt to get a bead on everything else Salem had to offer. Though he held no great love for the desert isle, it still had a meaningful role in his past, and the ties he made there would certainly have long-lasting repercussions.

Adult Stallion 16.0HClassic Champagne ChimeraSolomon x Xiomara