MaidMorphia's Links
A constant, perpetual occupant of Valerian’s own mind. He had always been a devoted follower, but ascending to sainthood amplified it tenfold. Moneta is privy to every thought he has and treats those thoughts as an open conversation that she is always invited to. Valerian finds comfort in knowing that the questions he asks of her will always have an answer and is blithely accepting of the annihilation of his privacy. She is the one place in life where he will give up control rather than demand it--and do so with a blind trust that only a zealot could have. In return for her favor, Moneta expects perfection. Valerian strives for this more earnestly than he does anything else in his life. He fears her disappointment not in the way that a supplicant does that of a wrathful god, but in the way a man does that of a lover.
Moneta’s Saints have always been her most intimate contacts with the earthly world, and Valerian is no different. She is fond of him, in the only way a creature like herself knows how to be fond of any mortal creature. Her affection comes at the price of unquestioned obedience. Valerian grants this dutifully, and it is for that reason that he is genuinely her favorite. She would perceive resistance from him in the same way that a swordsman would perceive betrayal coming from their own blade--a weapon does not have the right to turn on its own master.
XVI is an absolute enigma, but VI still tries to be friendly.
Considers VI so kind that it verges on spinelessness.
She considers VI unbelievably naive, but also adorable.
Holds a mix of fear, affection, and concern for her--although fear usually reigns dominant.
From Mircea’s end, it’s a weary sort of rivalry. Their lineages and statuses have essentially made them enemies from birth, and thus he treats all of their interactions as a careful, measured game of social chess. If it was just up to him, Mircea wouldn’t keep up the game at all. He isn’t particularly endeared to Livia, but he doesn’t wish to antagonize her either. When he was younger, he entertained the idea of trying to become friends, but he’s since abandoned it. He tries to avoid Livia when he can, but will be saccharine and charming to her if he happens to be forced into a conversation.
She’s been raised to see Mircea as her most crucial adversary. Livia holds no personal hatred or contempt for him, but she does view him and his family as the largest obstacle in the path to securing her father’s pride. She challenges herself to always get the better of Mircea in every encounter they have--or make him lose his patience, at the very least. Privately, she respects him and his skills--a worthy adversary and a fitting rival, as she sees it--but also believes he has several fatal flaws that will always make him inferior to her. As Livia sees it, where he has sentimentality and weakness, she has cunning and strength.
She’s baffled why this boy seems so eager to be friendly to her. Onora is used to being the bottom rung of the social ladder, hardly given a second glance either by adults or her peers. Someone as prominent as the crown prince approaching her on his own came as such a shock that she was convinced he was playing some elaborate prank. When he persisted, she simply assumed he was an imbecile. Cautiously, she has decided to humor him. They often wander around the city or countryside on long walks, speaking of music, personal troubles, or the latest book Mircea has loaned her.
Mircea was first only fascinated by Onora’s skill on a violin--after speaking to her for the first time however, he was then fascinated by the girl herself as well. Having grown up in a world of careful, rehearsed courtly language and royal customs, Onora’s bluntness and unapologetic rudeness is a breath of fresh air. A largely reserved and isolated person beforehand, Mircea felt as though this was the first time he genuinely wanted to spend time with and get to know someone outside of his immediate family. Listening to Onora ramble about musical theory and composers or taking her to visit his favorite haunts are things he greatly looks forward to.
Paimon would like him much better if he would stop trying to bring up the past. He takes pride in no one being privy to his weaknesses, but Baal is the single exception to that rule. Half of the time, he delights in being able to use Baal’s compassion for him as fodder for manipulation, but the other half, the sentimentalism of it irritates him to no end. At the same time, though, it’s better to have Baal around than not. Paimon’s known him for as long as he can remember. If anything ever happened to Baal, he imagines it would feel like losing an anchor.
Baal met him before he met anyone else. It’s because of this that he got to see any hint of who Paimon was before he became the jaded cynic he is today. The two were close--they still are, Baal tries to remind himself, though it’s harder to say it with conviction these days. There’s a gulf in their relationship that Baal tries to ignore just as hard as Paimon tries to emphasize it. He’s always kept an olive branch offered, no matter how many times Paimon has spurned it. Much like his efforts to unite demons and humanity, Baal is terrified of abandoning this cause. He doesn’t have to label himself a failure so long as he’s still working.
Eligos was the first demon Leander ever met, and one of the factors that sparked his interest in contracting. Though in his childhood he never thought much of her presence, he's become more attuned to her intense resentment of his family as he's grown older. He can't help but feel awkward around her.
Eligos has only ever known Leander from afar as her contractor, Ashton's, favorite nephew. She's never had much reason to be suspicious of him, but has always pegged him as someone too curious for his own good. To her, he's one of Ashton's most exploitable weaknesses.
Decarsias views Archambault much like a little sister, as the two of them met when she was only a child and Decarsias in his twenties. He’s highly protective of her even now when they’re both adults. They’re equals, but he’ll always have a sort of instinct to look out for her. Archambault is perhaps Decarsias’s oldest friend and there’s little he won’t trust her with. She’s one of the few people he wouldn’t even think of abandoning, and the only one that he dares display any vulnerability or weakness in front of.
Archambault will always, even if only slightly, see her relationship with Decarsias as that of an apprentice to a master. He was her introduction to the world of magic and enchantment, and thus holds a place with her that no one else can quite share. She trusts him with her life and was shaken to her core when she heard of his death. To be reunited with him in this strange new life was both jarring and elating for her. She’s more than ready to follow him into whatever convoluted scheme he’ll think of next.
Despite being completely aware of Klaus’s obsessive stalking, Etienne is blasé and relaxed around the man. She finds it oddly flattering that someone with such a deep look into her life and the quirks of her personality would still want to spend time with her and even seek her out. Their shared sense of humor and interest in the macabre helps things--Etienne often makes jokes about his stalking. She also enjoys his help when it comes to killing blights and his availability when it comes to one-night stands.
Klaus is fascinated by the demure façade that couples with Etienne’s abrasive personality. She’s one of the few people that he can sustain any sort of meaningful conversation with, and one of the fewer that shares his destructive hobbies. She’s far more important to him than any of his past relationships, mainly because Klaus hasn’t yet entirely reduced her to an object. It’s questionable if he cares for her on a human level, but he would absolutely protect her from any outside threats out of possessiveness.
Onora has a quiet admiration for the composer--much like her admiration for anyone, it’s something she’s hesitant to admit. She perceives Valeria as someone with high standards, dignified tastes, a woman whose approval is hard-earned. Because of this, she delights in Valeria’s compliments and strives to earn the woman’s approval. She tries to emulate some of Valeria’s mannerisms and quirks as well, such as her dry humour and steady, half-lidded gaze. Needless to say, she’s very much Valeria’s fan.
Valeria has interacted with Onora only briefly, but this has been enough for her to be impressed by the girl’s skill and talent. She’s well-versed in the subtleties of social behavior to pick up on Onora’s clumsily-concealed admiration. Valeria finds it endearing. She speaks to Onora like she would speak to a peer--not dumbing down her speech or sugarcoating anything. She returns Onora’s devotion with genuinity, feeling as though it’s the respectful thing to do. One of the few children Valeria can stand.
Baltassar finds Valeria a fascinating enigma. From the moment they met, she was concerned for the woman and wanted to take any measure she could to provide sanctuary for her. When spending time with Valeria, Baltassar could best be described as “attentive.” She’s at once a rapt admirer of Valeria’s showy, regal demeanor, but greatly worried by the scraps of information that Valeria lets slip about her old life in Ostorius. More than anything, she wishes that Valeria would let her guard down enough to accept help.
On first meeting, Valeria was shocked to her core by Baltassar. She had never met anyone who was quite so openly odd, eccentric, and offbeat. To her further surprise, she found that she quite liked it. Baltassar was a welcome surprise from the hyper-observant, ever-poised figures of court life. For the first time, Valeria allowed herself to call someone a friend. She values Baltassar as one of the few--perhaps the only person--that she can fully relax around. She shares things with the duchess that she will with no one else.
Baltassar does not have favorite pupils--it would be like having favorite children, she often says--but Onora is one of her students that she most enjoys teaching. She was fascinated by the girl’s prodigious skill from the first time she heard Onora play. Baltassar keeps her close out of what feels like a need to mentor and protect. Something about Onora strikes a chord with her, perhaps some perceived similarity or motherly instinct. Whatever it is, it makes her remarkably accepting of Onora’s foul behavior.
Onora was initially irritated by the duchess's eccentricities and drifty, head-in-the-clouds demeanor, but has since grown accustomed to it. She has only been taking music lessons from Baltassar for a few months and already prefers it to being taught by the members of the clergy in the church. On occasions, she has given in to Baltassar’s suggestions to go on outings together and has not despised it half as much as she thought she would. The duchess is better company than first impression suggested, Onora begrudgingly admits.
Etienne was initially terrified and revolted by the angel. However, as Azrael became a mundanity rather than an oddity, Etienne grew to begrudgingly tolerate, then tentatively anticipate her visits. She justifies being attached to Azrael because the angel is the one source of aid and information she has, but it doesn’t take careful inspection to see that the affection goes beyond the level of an acquaintance. When asked about Azrael, though, Etienne maintains that their relationship hasn’t shifted from that of adversaries.
Azrael has simultaneous contempt and fondness for Etienne. Usually, she finds only the idea of mortals interesting, but not the individuals themselves. Etienne is an exception. Azrael has enamoured herself with the idea of acting as the savior of both Etienne’s faith and the girl herself. No immortal has yet called upon her so often, nor seems half as desperate for aid. It’s nearly the level of devotion some saints get. Azrael’s affection is hard to describe in human terms, though, and saying she feels “love” would be misleading.
One of the few demon kings who Eligos genuinely adored and looked up to. Belial, unlike most, ignored the boundaries of hierarchy and power that most demons took as law and never once dismissed Eligos on basis of rank alone. She found him a source of more reasonable advice than Beleth gave and would often seek him out in moments of doubt. His insistence on the existence of Heaven and redemption always gave her pause, but she could never decide whether to dismiss or believe him. It always felt easier to give into cynicism after his death. Eligos cannot help but feel guilty whenever she thinks of him now.
Someone that Belial always felt was underestimated. He was concerned by how constantly and viciously she disparaged herself, and doubly so by how it went so unnoticed. His initial attempts at approaching her were rebuffed viciously, but Belial was used to not being trusted on first impression. They became cautious friends. Most were unaware that the two of them even interacted. Belial was always on casual lookout for her whenever he arrived in a new location, half out of hope for a familiar face, half out of concern. He was always excited to hear about what she had been up to in the time they had been apart.
Beleth has forgotten Caro's name and existence on multiple occasions.
Caro absolutely adores her. She sees Beleth as flawless and infinitely benevolent. She remembers every detail of their first conversation, the exact circumstances when Beleth saved her from death for the first time, and even the type of tobacco that Beleth likes best. Caro would do literally anything she could to help if Beleth needed it.
The only person that Beleth has ever considered a lover. She was devoted to him through every one of the three thousand years since they met. She found him a curious exception to most of her peers, and half-doubted his patience and good intentions at first. Belial was perhaps the one person that Beleth could soften her abrasive and combative demeanor for, and also the only one she’d willingly admit any doubts or weaknesses to. They had a comfortable, almost unspoken communication that would defuse her usual flares of rage or annoyance. There is almost no one she has felt half as safe around. She destroyed the city of El Dorado to avenge his death.
Belial loved her. It was a steady, dependable sort of affection that never faltered once in the three thousand years he knew her. Belial was never one to pretend that Beleth had no flaws, or ignore her very obvious shortcomings, but he was an exception to most in that they were never something that frustrated him--he would never give her the cold shoulder if he could talk to her about something first. Beleth’s cynical view of humanity was always something that worried him, and it was always something that Belial insisted she couldn’t hold onto forever. To his concern, it was always the one thing she would never negotiate.
Paimon always found troubling, unfamiliar feelings stirred up within him whenever Belial was around--fear and melancholy, namely. On the surface, he always was able to maintain his demeanor of unaffected nonchalance, but the truth always lurked beneath. Belial, as much as Paimon was loathe to admit it, made him feel threatened. Their skillsets matched up too closely for comfort, their values were at constant odds, and their personalities grated on each other. And lastly--the one thing Paimon could hardly admit to himself--Belial reminded him of himself, when he still had mercy.
Belial found Paimon absolutely sickening. Their values, beliefs, and priorities clashed on absolutely every level, Paimon’s crossing lines that Belial couldn’t stand. His usual patience and penchant for negotiation fizzled and died when dealing with the other demon. Belial always attacked or doubted everything that Paimon did or said, perpetually on-guard, jumpy as a caged animal. Little know the origin of this intense revulsion. Some say Paimon mocked his belief in Heaven one too many times. Some say he looked too deeply into Paimon’s mind and didn’t like what he saw. Belial himself never gave any explanation.
Eligos thinks Paimon is an insufferable pseudo-intellectual who regularly makes blatant misuse of his powers. To her, he is an example of everything wrong with demon kings.
Like most middle-ranking demons, Paimon considers Eligos a pitifully weak worm that he could easily snuff out if he so pleased. He finds her limited psychic abilities charmingly amusing and her insistence on a personal moral code simply adorable. Paimon refuses to consider her an equal and will only speak to her condescendingly if he deigns to at all. As far as Eligos is concerned, they have barely interacted in any meaningful way in their time on Earth. Paimon, however, thinks he knows her rather well. He has this opinion of everyone he has regularly manipulated.
An old rival turned cautious friend, as far as Beleth’s concerned. One of the few figures from her past she hasn’t yet driven away with her bitterness and outbursts. Though the two were frosty, vitriolic rivals in their younger days, age has made her ego less sensitive, and she finds Paimon doesn’t grate on her quite as much as he used to. He shares her jaded and nihilistic views on humanity, and won’t try to argue against her when she speaks of it. He isn’t a close confidante. She wouldn’t trust him with any secrets. But she at least finds comfort in his constancy in her life. One of the few things time hasn’t been able to alter.
To her face, Paimon calls her an old friend. Behind her back, he cruelly mocks her for her penchant for nostalgia, her--in his opinion--frivolous sentimentality, and her temper. In their younger days, they were far more openly antagonistic and combative with each other, but he’s since carefully and deceptively worked his way into her good graces. Privately, he considers her reputation and her ability to survive disaster rather impressive. He’s loath to give her any compliments that aren’t laced with sarcastic jabs and sharp jokes, though. He considers her a very useful pawn in his grand and shadowy plans.
Up until two thousand years ago, Eligos and Beleth were friends, Beleth even considering her something of a younger sibling. Eligos’s animosity began during their service to Rome, for reasons that Beleth has no knowledge of. Beleth has always felt something of a mix of pity and responsibility towards Eligos. She was fond of having someone that appeared to depend on her. Eligos breaking off contact so suddenly was somewhat disheartening, but Beleth’s pride has always kept her from seeking reconciliation. Her snapping at Eligos with cruelty or mockery when she loses her temper hasn’t helped matters.
Eligos, in her younger days, considered Beleth a dear friend and even a standard to aspire to. She was the first person, demon or human, that Eligos trusted and sincerely confided in. Because of this, Eligos was disgusted and horrified by what she saw as a cruel, unprovoked attack on herself by Beleth. In the aftermath, even the sight of the other demon sickened her, and Eligos isolated herself to wallow in her hurt and bitterness. She is still genuinely revolted by Beleth and has written her off as a monster. Eligos tries to convince herself that all the past comradery was fabricated, that only vengeance will bring her comfort now.
Beleth is cautiously hopeful about him. To her, Leander represents a vanishingly small minority amongst her contractors: those who have the capacity to treat her as an equal. Most of her interactions with Leander are tinged with small spats and uneasiness due to her abrasive demeanor and his inexperience with demons. Amongst these, however, are moments and conversations where the two speak to each other as friends, and even confidantes. He is one of the few humans Beleth feels personally indebted to. She finds his petulance, snobbery, and bursts of anger endearingly amusing.
As much as Leander hates it, he’s grown more attached to the demon than planned. She seems more honest and dependable than most of the people he’s known, which is maddeningly perplexing to him. He’s been raised to view her kind as total monsters, but the better he gets to know her, the harder it gets to uphold that belief. Leander finds Beleth easy to talk to, he’s laughed at her jokes and even run to her for comfort. Something in the back of his mind always warns him that she isn’t human, she’s a living façade, but it’s becoming easier to ignore. Leander fears that he’s making a friend of a demon.