Tarantula tootsies appreciation post <3
yes good yes
I love spider foot designs. so much fluff, tiny little hooksies
oh god toes
Oh, geez. Sighing, Delilah fetched a short glass and poured a generous amount of scotch into it, placing it in front of Kay. “Here, it’s on me. It’s always five o’clock somewhere, right?”
Settling opposite the girl again, Delilah said, “There’s always libraries and whatnot. Maybe one of them has a reference book that has the answers you’re looking for?”
Kay blinked at the glass, then looked in surprise at the human for a moment.
"…Thanks," she muttered, uncertainly, and let her fingers close around it.
She shrugged and gestured with her shoulder at the bag beside her. “Been there, looked there. Still need to look through those. It’s just…” she shook her head, wincing slightly, “….even if I find something, the chances of it helping in any way are slim at best.”
She looked down into the glass of scotch. What the hell.
Lifting it to her lips, she tipped it back and took a deep gulp, face twisting as she set it down again. It went down her throat like a piece of hearth, settling in her stomach in a warm, ember-like weight. Burning in a way that wasn’t quite pain, and wasn’t entirely not.
She remembered, now, why she’d never liked to drink. That feeling of warmth from within, there was nothing else like it. Almost nothing else. It reminded her too much of Her, and what it had felt like to be Hers, and what it didn’t feel like anymore.
Kay stared at the counter for a long moment, then took another gulp. She was cold, and she didn’t care about Her anymore.
Giving Kay a lopsided grin, Delilah said, “Just a bit. You looked like someone just yanked your chain when I admitted to being clueless. Sorry I couldn’t be of much help, there.”
Kay’s half-amused smile faded. No wonder that she kept messing up with her own life, if she was that transparent to a human.
She shrugged, swallowing as she looked away and huddled into her tea again. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s always been a longshot, anyway.”
With a tired, hopeless glance at the bag of books beside her, Kay stewed on her own misery as she stirred her tea.
Lucifer slumped into his chair, exhausted. His face twisted into something ugly and bitter, the mask of someone forced to bear a heavier brunt of mistakes than he had counted on.
His hand fell from his chest, where the accursed sigil was still - despite his best efforts - clear as day, carved across his skin, and not just on the surface of his corporation. Growling to himself, he shrugged back into his shirt.
For long minutes, Lucifer stayed silent, thinking.
Then he stood from his desk and called for a guard.
"Well, when something’s locked away tight, I imagine it’s hard to fly the coop, so it would have had to stay put, I guess. No idea how they identified it, though.” Eyeing the girl opposite her, Delilah remarked, “You look like life owes you a drink or two.”
Kay blinked once, blinked again, then surprised herself when she broke down into undignified laughter.
"You could say that," she snorted, huddling in on herself, hunched nearly protectively over her tea. She shook her head in amusement, then rubbed her face before resting her head against her arm. "Why, is it that obvious?"
All Delilah could offer was a shrug. “Maybe hope was just really, really slow or something, I don’t know. And anyway, it’s just an old myth, so logic doesn’t really apply, does it?”
Kay slumped slightly. So much for unique insights that could help her against the Horrors, then.
"I mean," she said, taking a large gulp of her tea, "is how did the Greeks think Hope had stayed in the box, if people were still capable of hoping? If they- Hell, if they knew what it was, how could it have stayed put?”
She needed to find the logic in it. She needed logic to apply somewhere, because those things were real. She needed to find out where the logic had been different in their native world, different enough to let them become more than just dream and shadow.
"I think Chaos was the abyss Gaia and Uranus came from. Not sure, though. I know a bit more about Pandora, though I’m sure you’ve heard what I know already." Sipping her tea, Delilah spoke.
"Prometheus stole fire from the gods of Olympus and gave it to mankind. He was punished for what he did, but humanity was still reaping the benefits, so they hatched a plan. Hephaestus created a woman out of clay and the gods breathed life into her, then sent her to marry Prometheus’ brother, bearing a box. They told her never to open it, and handed the key to her husband. He refused to open it out of fear, but she was curious, so Pandora stole the key when he slept and opened the box.
"When she opened it, all of the evils of the world — famine, illness, crime — were released into the world, and humanity would no longer have it as easy as they did ever again. However, Pandora closed the box before the last thing inside it could escape — hope."
Delilah paused for a moment, drinking her tea, and smiled at Kay. “I’m sure you know that much already, though. It’s still one of the more interesting myths, though, in my opinion.”
Kay listened with passive interest as she stirred the tea in her cup over and over again. The human was surprisingly - suspiciously? - knowledgeable about the subject matter. Or was it really such common knowledge here?
What a coincidence, then, that Chaos had found this world to terrorise. She needed to think about it. Knowledge was always the first step to belief, after all. And belief could be very, very powerful.
As the human finished, she gave a quiet snort. “That’s always sounded like a bunch of bullshit to me,” she muttered. “How can hope have stayed in the box?”
"Bits and pieces. I used to have a book on them, I think. Something in particular you wanted to know? I’d be happy to help out with what I can remember." Delilah grabbed another cup from under the counter, pouring herself a cup of tea as well and getting comfortable.
Kay shrugged, too tired to give careful thought to why it might not be a good idea to talk about her ‘research’ with every human she ran into.
"The classics," she muttered. "Pandora’s Box. Creation, destruction, chaos. That sort of thing."
She took a longer sip of the tea. It really was quite good. Even if sage was an acquired taste, she found.
"Really? Sounds like it’s not going very well." Still, Delilah perked up a bit a bit at the idea of another writer. "What’s it about, then, this book of yours? How long have you been working on it? Were you hoping to find a place to write here?" And no wonder she looked this shabby. Most writers had quirks like that, after all.
Kay sent an irritated glance up at Delilah, but mellowed slightly when she realised the human sounded nothing so much as curious.
"…Not long," she said reluctantly, then added, "A few months or so. It’s about… Greek stuff," she said lamely. "Ancient mythology. Know anything about that?"
"Has been for a while now in the afternoons," Delilah admitted. "We still get an evening crowd in, but that won’t be for another four hours, at least. I wouldn’t mind so much if I didn’t get bored out of my mind."
…well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, she supposed. At least she had a job. “What do you do for a living, then, Kay? Or did you decide to travel because nothing popped up, job-wise?”
Kay hesitated, reaching in to unbutton her coat slightly not she wasn’t freezing. What did she do for a living? Condemn souls to Hell? She couldn’t say she was doing ‘research’, that would just result in yet another overly curious human trying to prod at what she was doing.
Judging that her tea’s steeped enough by now, she lifted the cup to her lips and took a careful sip, buying herself time to think.
"…Something like that," she answered finally, scratching absently at the scar on the back of her hand. "I guess I’m what you call ‘in-between-jobs’ right now." She shrugged. The hell with it, she needed to get back in the swing of being able to talk to people. “Writing a book, or trying to,” she added glumly.