Tedium. That is what it had become! Once a place of glory, a way and will to fight for his lord was now a chore to partake totally separate from his goals. Hmph, even in hell politically correct bullshit reigned supreme, especially when<em>invitations</em>where given. "To think I used to revel in this," A hulking monstrous thing of magic and might marched with loud thunks of heavy feet into the ground. "To raise up my weapon to the sound of cheers in this," His sounds muddled as soft fleshy tongue slapped into the cold hard rock that was his bottom jaw. "Earned my place with this," Hing maw shifted side-to-side, clicking as gears unaligned and realigned. "Enjoyed this!" The creature raged to himself with more<em>normal</em>hand reaching up over his shoulder to grip upon his weapon. In Hell, there was no such thing as<em>paranoia</em>.<br/><br/>Those around looked on as The Great General, Hell's greatest military mind and most brutal fighter made his way to where he was<em>supposed to be</em>. Eviscerating, he was called, and for reasons well known. Pride he took in the damage he did, but that was not uncommon of hell, nor was pleasure brought from it, but this is where he differed from many. Oh he took joy, if his jaw able to smile he would do so with every strike of his hammer and every cut of his single claw, but it was a child like amusement with it all. It was fun, that was all. Hmph, but the Arena... now that was where the true brilliance of it all once was. No longer, now it was...<em>in the way</em>.<br/><br/>"I should be planning, keeping my armies<strong>FRESH</strong>. Not playing with...<em>toys</em>." It wasn't long before Eviscerating found his way to where Mnemosyne sit upon a large<em>throne</em>of pillows. Imp cowing at the Demoness‘ feet, with advisor to her ear, she seemed to be taking to her new<em>position</em>rather well. Eviscerating scoffed to himself, “Though a break may do me well,” And put his back toward the wall that sit only next to the single exit away from the high Arena perch. There should be no way for one to get behind you and stab your backside.<br/><br/>Why visit Mnemosyne, though? Could be that, like The Great General, she was a fighter and earned her spot. Could be that there was respect for how she handled things. Could be that she was the only one of the two that could be trusted. Could be that they knew each other from the past, Hunters often working with or for the many legions that Hell could raise. Or it could be the fact that she was<strong>no coward!</strong>Mnemosyne used her hands, her voice and her wits rather than the figments of reality to get her wishes. Asmodeus, a pretty boy who couldn’t so much swing a punch, holding power to The Lord and Master’s seat.<strong>Disgraceful!</strong>But such was not for Eviscerating to decide, nor was it his duty. No, The General was there for he would lead the armies of Hell in the greatest victory of all eternity, and not much more.<br/><br/>“Any worth my battlefield,” Eventually Eviscerating asked after everyone had left the two of them alone, “Or are they all weak and... squishy?” Those deep, dark, red eyes shifted to where the Arena Master sit though the signs of a Valkyrie warrior did catch him ever so slightly, “No doubt he keeps the good ones to himself.” There was no such thing as<em>paranoia</em>, in Hell.