[PRP] Game Over ( TOO MANY PEOPLE)

[Lilwolfpard]

If any of them wondered what was to meet them at the bottom of the dark tunnel they just slid through, it didn’t take long to get their answer. At the bottom was a rather old, dusty, room sized pillow that with a POOF sent dust and dirt everywhere when they landed. Coating them in a fine layer, but it was easily brushed off. It was clear to them that no one had taken this entry in a long while, or the area was just that damn messy. Looking up would reveal another hallway, only leading in one direction. Though under ground, there were red beams and poles protruding from the walls in a evenly spaced matter. They appeared to go on for a little while…

The walk was mostly uneventful, a little boring honestly. At the end of the hall stood a pair of matching red doors, around 15 feet tall. After a little bit of tugging, they would find themselves entering a completely darkened, chilly, room.

Or so they thought.

After a few brief seconds, with a ‘POP’ around 20 large floating balls of orange flames appeared some 20 feet in the air, illuminating the area. The flames warmed the air in the room softly. The room itself was massive. 40-foot high ceilings and walls and floors made completely out of that same stone from the first hallway. It was completely square; looking around they would also notice a similar door in the center of each wall exactly like the one they just walked out of.

At first it looked as if there was only one thing inside the room. At the center stood a single, massive, statue, covered in a similar dust and dirt. Around its body was a old red cloth, something like a cloak that went down its body. Only a single tail was present, but the dirty kitsune mask hanging off the side of its face was enough to signal that it was not just a normal fox statue. Oddly enough it was not looking at you, but you had the distinct feeling if it was bad things might happen.

This was also around the time that you would realize you were not alone. Directly across from you, on the opposite doors, you would see the enemy party. For the Hunters, it was the Halloweens, visa versa for the Halloween students. Though as you were just about to take a step forward, call out that first insult… you see something out of the corner of your eye. Looking around, you find yourself staring at a single, maybe foot tall, mini version of that same statue in the center of the room. Looking back towards the main statue to confirm it, you would suddenly notice TWO mini statues were now looking at you in the corner of your eyes. With eight people in the room, this meant that a lot of statues were suddenly popping up…

There was also for a select trio, Aymet, Thackery, and Harrison, felt a odd buzzing noise in the air. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it would be a annoying feeling. Like something forgotten trying to remind you.

The masked relic, the artifact pulsed.

It didn't just pulse, it sang. It sang of trials, it sang of the Great King, and then it sang of many kings. It wasn't actually song, but a voice, not actually a voice but a strange, wordless mutter, an underlying feeling of tension and unresolved turmoil boiling into itself churning over and over and over.

It awake in everyone in the room a piece of something different. For those who were closest, those once Kings, forced into hand from a similar Artifact, they felt a feeling of nostalgia and then of loss. For a second they were not themselves. No, they were a King and they had just lost a kingdom. But the song sang of many kings and it sang of them and thus it sang of promise. They could rebuild their kingdom. Yes, they would rebuild their kingdom. They were once and always Kings.

To the others, it sang mixed feelings. Strange fragments, memories, longing, regret, the strongest memories that played back and forth and flickered the landscape so one moment it looked like their childhood and the second the harsh reality again. One moment someone from their past was whispering to them and the next they were facing rows and rows of strange, jeering statues all situated around the shrine the artifact pulsating-

- Someone shouted. Sam. The illusion broke, and for a moment the artifact stopped singing. Four Hunters, four creatures of Halloween. Silence.

And then the inevitable happened, as it always did. A clash. There could only be one who got the artifact, and -

- Only one who could become King again.

OOC

WELCOME TO THE ARTIFACT ROOM:

- BASIC BATTLE MECHANICS ARE PER USUAL. Each player can attack once per round, before it resets (or auto reset in 24 hours). The goal is to get to the artifact in the center!

- All HP is Reset!

- You can RP as much as you like but only attack once per round please!

gaia_crown [ Influence from memories:]
- As you reach closer towards the artifact (mask), your memories start to bleed into the surroundings. For former Kings, this is much more influential: your outfit changes, everything you accidentally touch turns into a remnant of the past. Only things you touch on the ground, bits and pieces, fragments like stained glass, odd and incomplete. They only retain the look but not the feel or even solidity.

- For those who were not Kings they are a mixture of the Seven King memories (for those awakened/ too close to the proximity of a current King), and then of memories from Amityville/ Deus/ Halloween. Stones become chairs from a classroom. A wooden pylon becomes a Deus-mounted flag. Everything becomes odd, as if the environment is being restructured by the appearance of memories.

At the very center is the mask. The goal is to get to the mask while keeping the others away. Roll an attack dice. The more damage you do to a player, the FURTHER they are away from the mask. So the more damage you take the further away you are! Your goal is to be the closest after a few rounds of attacks!

Zoobey

Thank you SO MUCH for helping me with this bebe ;;; TY for adding stuff to my post ;;(Still amused you can totally see the shift in writing styles XD)

Prolixity

Toshihiko Two

Baneful

Nothing Yet

Oniongrump

AstaraeI

 

[Molten Tigrex]

Crack went the dracolich as the bones and armor clattered to the ground. Remi had a surprisingly fun rite of passage. And what, a statue i a room? Uh. Two. Four? Twenty statues...? Well, psh. Wings. Good for all occasions, but especially treasure hunting. And treasure taking. That's what dragons were all about, even the dead ones.

Aymet honestly wasn't even sure what the problem was until he looked across the room and saw a familiar group of hunters emerge on the other side.

Few things were annoying when you were dead, but this was apparently one of them. A sound, like a murmur or a whisper, a constant drone that faded between noise and feeling, setting him further on edge. He picked himself up from the floor and regarded Remi, Thackery, and Tybalt with nervous energy waiting to be let loose. Aymet relished a fight, but Thackery and Tybalt weren't exactly his number one choices going up against hunters. "We've got this. We've got this, right, Remi--"

His voice cut off suddenly and unexpectedly. Something resonated, not in his bones, or his heart (which he lacked), but in a sliver of black metal that had lodged itself in the former to become the latter. Like a chord struck, the phylactery around his neck was shadow, swathes of it radiating outward. He had become a void, a non-person, a neat Aymet-shaped hole in space. An anomaly that this reality all but refused to allow. The shadowy silhouette of the dracolich twitched and twisted at the edge of vision, as if fighting to break free of such a small, predictable shape the moment one looked away.

"I will not falter in my purpose," he declared in a voice as warped as his appearance, "For I am the True King."

It could have been a single second or a millenia since the kingdom crumbled and the world after it. But he could not call himself a king of revenge if that was all it took to stop him. Time was meaningless in the space between, in that fleeting moment he had passed on all that he was, to the worthless creature he should have replaced.

The Black king stretched his wings, unfurled his claws, opened ice-blue eyes that were empty of anything but vengeance. The mask sang of kings, and wove a crown of darkness into his outstretched hands. The last relic of a lost kingdom. Or the first of a new and greater one. Death itself had not dulled his ambitions. He would become the king of kings, the greatest of all, or he would die ensuring no one else ever would.

He crowned himself in a swift motion - for what King would not proudly wear the symbol of his greatness? - and stepped forward into the sea of statues, laughing like thunder.

IDK EVERYONE????

 

[prolixity]

The total lack of anything threatening in the tunnel lined with red beams made Jordan tense after the gauntlet of traps they'd just run. At some point, Sam had turned back into a woman, and he and Rep had returned to being men; it was a relief to feel like himself again, but he wasn't letting himself relax. The darkened room bursting into light with floating flames wasn't reassuring. The statue that stood in the center of the room held an air of menace, and Jordan looked to Sam. "That it?" he asked quietly.

He noticed the Halloweeners about the same time that the other group noticed the Hunters. Two of the figures were familiar ones, one in bright blue and orange that made Jordan's teeth clench in irritation. He couldn't remember exactly what had started this particular feud, but this was one demon he would be more than happy to feed to his weapon.

Something flickered in his peripheral vision before he could start across the room. There were small statues in the room now, identical to the one in the center, and these were looking --

-- there was a resonant note, a silent call that sang through all his bones like a tuning fork struck on the edge of a table, a single note that called forth an unexpected response. His King was here, the man he'd chosen to serve years ago, even if more formal oaths had been more recent --

-- alarmed, he shook free of the fragment memories that threatened to overwhelm reality once more. The room was shivering in his vision like heat waves rising from summer pavement, becoming first the auditorium from the college he'd attended in this reality, then one of the ballrooms of the casino in that other place.

The artifact, Ferros said. That's what's doing this.

"We have to get the artifact," Jordan said, and wondered what he was talking about even as he spoke. Why was he wearing a white coat rather than the well-tailored suit he was accustomed to? Where was Ferros? He summoned his weapon, fighting the cognitive dissonance as conflicting memories crashed into one another. Ferros was the hammer in his hand, not the big, quiet bodyguard he'd known. They were one and the same.

Still, as he stalked around the statue, eyes fixed on his target, some part of him missed the presence at his back, the cool contoured shape of the Glock in his hand. He knew without having to look that Rep would take the other direction, flanking the group they hunted.

He was a Sun Hunter, and it was his job to go on the offense; he was advisor to the Blue Kingdom, and he would give his life to protect his King. The memories were in opposition, but the impulses harmonized: the first order of business was to lock down this room, and that involved disabling or killing the enemies that stood in their way.

Zoobey

Toshihiko Two

Baneful

 

[prolixity]

The fragment-memories didn't know anything about the kitsune, other than that he was flagged as threat and needed to be taken out. For Jordan's real memories, it was much more personal, a blurred mix of encounters with a sneering almost-human face that laughed at him and refused to be either defeated or cowed. The weight of memory and grudge grounded him into himself as he moved further out into the room, and the ballroom lapsed back into the underground room with its statues before flickering uncertainly in his peripheral vision, the statues and pillars suggesting the old garage with its woodworking tools and its rickety mess of stored junk.

He ignored it. The reality of the room that surrounded them was ultimately less important than the creature he was stalking. The statues provided a little cover, and Jordan kept behind the central statue as long as he could, out of his target's direct line of sight.

When he could no longer stay hidden, he sprinted the last few steps to put himself in range before planting his feet and spinning to bring Ferros around in a full circle, building momentum so that the massive hammer slammed into Remi's side at full force.

Ferros roared, silently and gleefully, sharing his hunter's vicious satisfaction in the solid hit.

HP: 60/60
Target: Remi
Dmg: 17
Charge: 1/3

Lilwolfpard

 

[Baneful]

The relief at being male again was short lived as they found themselves in what was almost certainly a trap. Rep didn't understand the stupid ******** - to him - dog statues or their meaning, he just knew it gave him an overwhelming sense of foreboding and imminent dread.

Rightly ******** so he thought to himself as they found themselves herded into the same room as a group of ******** familiar looking Halloween bastards. It was much easier to figure out than the maze, as far as he was concerned there was one single course of action open to him. There wasn't even a moment's hesitation as he held a hand out to his side and summoned Tracey, the axe coalescing into solid steel from nothing but shadow in his hands, polished off with a flash of red runes as it solidified.

Spotting the artifact - or what had to be one - everything seemed to twist contorted and wrong, the room bleeding into mingled memories, moss and slime covered stinking sandstone walls of the tenements sprayed with graffiiti that bled and clung on the ancient stone, winding closes and a slate grey light that seemed to sap the life from everything around it. And opposite it, clashing with the poverty and deprivation of youth, garish and brilliant gold leaf lit with neon blue LEDs, polished chrome and steel of a casino that never existed and yet would always exist. Rep's influence on the landscape was twisted and fantastical, paying no heed to gravity or directions, planes slanted against planes irrationally and dangerous blade topped fences and barbed wire snaking along the edges of available surfaces.

In his head, Blue bled into him as he strode forward. The Underboss. More confident, honourable and noble than the petty wreck that Rep normally was, he nevertheless permitted that deep rooted injustice and hatred to remain, it would be their weapon in doing the only thing that mattered - defending their king.

Jordan was correct to assume that Rep would reflexively flank the other side - they bickered in times of peace - when it came to war, their intentions were singular.

Even with the axe in his hand, he felt like he had claws.  

[Baneful]

Blue had no grudges of his own, in his kingdom their rule had been absolute, people had submitted or they had been utterly destroyed. He graciously permitted Rep to entertain his own whims as he leapt toward the most immediate irritation on his radar.

With the canine abomination, things were personal.

DMG: 9
Target: Tybalt
Charge: 1/3
Own distance count: 0  

[Nothing Yet]

The first thing that Thackery did when faced with the bottom of the tunnel was sneeze. The second, however, was to continue the trend of awe and amazement that had been very visible throughout this trip. This was nothing like anything he'd ever seen before! Especially nothing like anything back home.

His tail worked like a backwards featherduster as he walked through the corridor, flinging dust into the air around him with each happy wag. Even though this effect did nothing but worsen by the time he stepped into the next room, he was immediately distracted by something far more incredible to care about. The flames made his smile even wider, and he reached up towards one even though he could most certainly never touch it, basking in the faint warmth they provided. He turned to Remi to comment on them, but caught a glimpse of a statue in the middle of the room that was far more crucial to mention.

"Remi," he murmured, inching towards him. "That kitsune has a key."

He didn't understand what that meant, but he really liked it. Kitsunes and keys all at once? He was so set.

But there was someone else here too, and they were approaching that perfect statue. They were...hunters? He frowned, confused, and tried to understand why they would want to take something from Remi. That wasn't what they were supposed to do. Why were they being intentionally mean?

It was only a second after he'd reached for Remi with the intention of pulling him towards the statue that a strange hum filled his ears. They pinned themselves against the side of his head in hopes of blocking it out, but it seemed to do nothing to improve it. It did, after a while, kind of sound like a song...

He had the fingers of someone's hand laced firmly in his own, in spite of the knowledge that nothing would be the same very soon. He had presents at his feet at the edge of an ill-maintained garden, ready for a party. He spoke to a Voice that instructed him in everything, spoke to him like he was sure it spoke to none of the others, because only he could be the true.

The end of a shout pushed all of that away, and Thackery stared dumbly down at the hand he held in his own - then glanced up to see who it belonged to, a yelp of embarrassment slipping out before the shame was lost to adoration, his hand soothingly squeezing the kitsune's. The familiar weight of a violet-gemmed crown between his ears was always a comfort, because he deserved it, but the crown meant for the true king would be a much better fit. He was sure of it in a way that he'd been sure of nothing else before, which spoke volumes for a king who reveled in confidence and ego.

He stood on his toes to whisper in Remi's ear.

"It's finally time. You're going to be queen of everything."  

[Lilwolfpard]

The decorations within the room were not much of a surprise to him. Being a kitsune he had seen this sort of decoration all his life. Actually this was rather simple, more traditional. He had seen more over the top designs over the years, so the simplicity was nice. While he was with his friends still, he looked up to stare at the mask on the statue idly. Oddly it seemed to pull his eyes towards it. Plus, as Thackery pointed out, the kitsune statue was oddly holding a key. Huh, symbolism perhaps?

"This seems too easy..." The mask was in plain view, it was obvious to him this is what he was sent to find. A single step forward was all it took, he felt something change in the atmosphere within a breath of a second. The multiplying statues were the last thing on his list of concerns, they were easily forgotten. The air seemed to thicken, he glanced around and noticed he was not the only one pausing where he stood. Something almost forgotten, something lingering under the surface was making itself known. The cobwebs in his mind being dusted off, he blinked for a moment too stunned to stop it as a wave of memories overlaid with him consciousness. The lure felt stronger, oddly, radiating up one of his arms. Looking down, part of him just remembered that this was the same hand Thackery had been holding moments prior, excited to go see the kitsune and the key. This was also around the same time that he realized he too was clutching that hand back as if it was a lifeline, a crutch. He should feel bad holding his hand this way... but he didn't. He should know this man was already claimed... he still didn't care. This was his King, his love. He felt...oddly calmer. At peace.

Even as Aymet took off, chanting something about Wars, that too seemed familiar. That was just like him, his same shadowy self. Knowing what he wanted and making sure everyone else knew this too. There was an old sense of camaraderie there, overlaying not just his queen self, but his true self as well.

The voice in his ear startled him, jostling him out of his thoughts and back in to the present. Before he realized it though, he was looking around and down at Thackery, who was now King Thackery... with a old a smile, something his King would recognize. It was a look that should have spoken volumes all its own.

He opened his mouth to say something, just to emphasize, but it was too late. Jordan had done a knock up job and caught the (mentally conflicted) boil off his game. With a smashing hit Remi found himself being literally knocked off his feet and flung away as if he was a childs toy. He had the instinct to let go of Thackerys hand, but it wouldn't be surprising if he too felt the jerk of the hunters attack. Tossed to the side like a ball in Jordans game of kitsune golf, the fox came to a skidding full bodied stop against the cold flooring. A statue was knocked over here or there, turning in to a key.. or even a classroom desk, what have you.

Feeling as if two sets of memories were looking up, one filled with rage and the other mass confusion, Remi glared down the blonde hunter. "Who the ******** invited you?" How DARE they! One personality was pushed to the side, if only briefly, as the thought of hunters invading his FAMILIES sacred grounds was currently louder. They were in his home, in his lands.... they must be here for the item. They wanted it too, was that item the reason they were all currently remembering? Heaving himself to his feet, he clutched his side with a growl of frustration. Hell that REALLY freaking hurt.

With a hitch in his breath, Remis eyes unfocused and paniced. Jordan was now right next to his king. One priority currently taking over the other he didnt think twice and shifted into his true form mid stride. If anything, Jordan would notice that the kitsune was now a lot larger than before. Originally something around the size of a large dog, Remi could now be compared to something around the size of a horse. Fangs bared, Remi took a flying leap of retaliation back at Jordan. Both to hurt, and to get the hunter the ******** away from his King.

Remi always was a over protective Queen...

HP: 33/50
DMG: 11
Target: Jordan
Distortion: 1

prolixity

nothing yet

Astarael

 

[Nothing Yet]

The ground around Thackery's boots was shifting to something like grey cobblestone, a little puddle of dreamlike, lilac water spreading into the path of the only step he got to take before he felt his queen's hand quite forcefully pulled away from his own. He stopped, his fingers curling into fists; nobody was allowed to leave, especially not his queen.

His anger lessened by a fraction when his narrowed eyes discovered that it hadn't been his choice. The kitsune was on the ground, a path of mismatched destruction in his wake left between him and someone holding a weapon.

Because he knew with great confidence that this crown was his, he opted to secure the existence of his queen before claiming what he was rightfully owed. He couldn't shake the feeling from somewhere in his mind that there was absolutely nothing more important than Remi's safety at this moment - not a crown, not a key, not a statue - nor could he ignore that odd, sinking feeling he'd gotten in his stomach the moment they'd been torn apart. The shift in priorities was a little bit strange, but in the absence of clear directions from the Voice, he couldn't discount it. Besides, Aymet could be trusted to take care of the other ones while he was busy.

He walked towards him with brisk determination, leaving footprints of the same hyper-reflective purple water and stone, but paused when he saw him change into something unfamiliar. This was a magnificent talent! As furious as he would have been under many other circumstances to have such a thing kept from him, he was too impressed to be anything but delighted, and temporarily forgot what he was trying to accomplish as he stared at him with bright eyed wonder.

Smiling, he steadied himself with one hand atop a statue (which became a small pillar of Grecian marble) and watched his formidable queen's attack, remembering only then what he'd diverted himself from the crown to do. The anger set in again as he kicked a pile of uprooted garden flowers out of his way to stomp towards the intruder.

"No," he spat, putting himself between Remi and his hammer-wielding attacker. "This is my queen and will always be my queen, so I will not let you take him or ruin this before I have my crown. We worked too hard for this, so don't go..." He wrinkled his nose. "...touching him."

As loud as his bark was, he didn't seem to bite.

HP: 50/50
DMG: 0 gj boy gj
Target: Jordan

Lilwolfpard

Prolixity

 

[Molten Tigrex]

The thing that met Tybalt's gaze was not Aymet. There was no hint of recognition in its eyes as it regarded the black dog, even the twitch of a sneer at the edges of its mouth. There were flickers of something, memories of somewhere else, someone else, of a world that was dark but not dark enough - he banished the thoughts. He knew exactly who he was. He would be strong. "I've had worse."

The black king traced a few claws along the statues as he passed them, twisting them into spires of obsidian and dark metal, fallen bodies bleeding a near-black ichor, and unsightly combinations of the two. They flickered, indistinct, only echoes, only memories. Much like his kingdom always had been. The whispering hum of the artifact had become like a war song, a persistent pressure to move forward, to stand proud, and to remember what he had lost - and what he could regain.

"I should have known you squirming blue maggots would survive somehow." He had seen the transformation of one of the white-coats into a familiar king with a familiar crown. The blue crown, of the blue king. It was this one he made his way toward, polluting the fragmented ground with oily darkness. His voice came as close to humorous as one from the seven kingdoms could possibly imagine, bordering on venomous, sadistic. "Do you remember the shackles that once bound us as Kings?"

"A king must listen to the Voice-" And here, the only Voice to be heard was the beckoning call of the artifact, the promise, the second chance-

"A king cannot kill themselves-" Nor would he ever choose such a path-

"A king cannot attack another king. "

One hand gestured toward the ground commandingly, upward.

In this twisted illusion, the skeletons that rose at his command to swarm Harrison were cloaked in shifting shadow, amorphous humanoid things with gaping mouths and empty eyes. They reached up from the patchwork of memories, clawing and pulling, rattling with every 'breath'.

"No more rules to hide behind now," he grinned, spreading his clawed hands. The black king stepped a little closer, expectantly, hungrily. "I've waited so long... to rip each and every one of you unworthy 'kings' apart with my bare hands..."

HP: 50/50
DMG: 16 (BC)
Target: Harrison
Distortion: 1  

[Toshihiko Two]

"Tch. Yeah, I remember that s**t. Long time no see."

Where Aymet had struck, the pinstripes had leaked into a dark, deep, bitter black. The Boss scowled, brushing off his suit.

"Not that I need an excuse to kick your sour shadowy a**. But come on, Blacky. One true King? Who are you gonna to end up in debt to this time? Look where ******** handouts got you already."

All-told, he'd missed brawling. And a brawl with another King...well, under the old rules, they'd never gotten that personal. A King's job was to oversee, and the consequences for intervening were dire. Everything was on the line. But he'd died. His Kingdom had been falling apart with or without him. The hinges had spun on something else. Which meant his value, his ability to preserve everything that was important to him, had been an illusion.

He stepped forward, the shining floors of the Casino under his feet.

Guns weren't short-distance weapons. But swords were. He got close, and the topography around both of them clashed with a series of angry sparks, bleeding and pushing into each other. He tipped up the other King's chin with the point of B0nez's blade, smirking.

"But maybe we got different perspectives on it. Maybe your problem is you don't have anything you want to Protect..."

HP: 60 - 16 = 44
DMG: 2
Target: Aymet
Charge: 1/3  

[prolixity]

Jordan's smile was cold. "We invited ourselves. What do you care? This thing's dangerous. It should be removed from the site."

The demon's transformation and leap was too quick for him to effectively get out of the way, and he was knocked sprawling to the floor, skidding back much as Remi had. He rolled back to his feet, bringing Ferros back for another hit --

-- and someone was between them, another creature, one of the others --

-- blue instinctively recognized another King, protecting what was his; and blue could respect that. Protection was theirs, after all. The Blue Bishop inclined his head to the Violet King. They could never be on the same side, but that didn't mean he had to be rude.

"It's a matter of - " he started; and then he heard, faintly, what the Black King was saying, and he whipped around, his focus narrowing into a single point. The change in realities blossomed outwards in his peripheral vision, the neon blue and elegant brushed metal of the casino reasserting itself over the room. The Hunter's anger drowned under the Bishop's fury. His King was being attacked.

He had no more attention for the Violet King and his kitsune Queen; he snarled and sprinted back across the room towards the spot where the Black King stood, facing off against Blue.

HP: 49/60
Target: -
Dmg: -
Charge: 1/3

Distance: 11

Lilwolfpard

Nothing Yet

AstaraeI

Toshihiko Two

 

[Nothing Yet]

For the moment, they were left to themselves, which was exactly what the Violet King preferred. As long as he was not considered a threat, it gave him ample opportunity to sit back, look at everyone else's inevitably incorrect choices, and do most of what he wanted in the meantime. The murmur of power was still strong in his ears, but this was how he'd always done things - being the last to the battle granted him such perfect ease and simplicity.

Once he was sure that the combatant of Protection was not going to turn around and come back towards them, he inched towards Remi, cautiously burying his fingers into the blue fur behind his ear. He laughed as he began to pet him, like a scareling with their first minipet, and stretched to kiss him on the nose.

"You were always so clever, but this is more fantastic than I could even imagine," he praised, gently scratching his ear. "Elysian will be jealous that it can't have you."

His eyes wandered just long enough to get a good glimpse of what everyone else was doing: a great deal of focus was on King Aymet, but this was kind of his strong point. After what all of the unworthy kings (a category in which Violet wasn't possibly placed, of course) had done to him, he deserved this opportunity for revenge. Denying it would be like robbing him of his moment to shine.

Well, metaphorically. Since he was a shadow.