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The skeleton seemed to shiver.
"Well, that's not to say she won't force some of her morbidity on ya. Sure, she's got the blood for ultimate efficiency or something like that, which she uses to keep us from collapsin', but I heard her favoritest person in the world-- her mom, I think?-- is The Messiah, and has near-invincibility."
He nodded.
"Invincibility from all the circles of Hell! Though you do feel pain, you always come back. You need both bloods, or else you'll be rotting away like a normal corpse. Oh, look, there's the Bronze Castle now."
In front of them was what appeared to be a large castle made literally out of bronze [[though of course there's more structural metals in there]], that reflected the sunlight very well.
It was Cirruleic's castle, and he built it form the ground up, but he didn't 'deserve it anymore'.

The skeleton opened the door; it was lit only by candlelight.
[[It's a habit she stole from Caleb. XD]]
In the corner, a man in what appeared to be chains was next to the window. He sat on a small bronze slab.
"She tricked me," he muttered. "This isn't my throne, it's a whittled piece of it...! I don't deserve being tortured by her servants."
On close examination, one could see that he had an extra two sets of arms grafted onto his body.
"That," the skeleton said, "is Cirruleic. Formerly 'Prince Cirruleic'. He died in a duel over the Messiah. Miss Mocha dislikes him very much."
Cirruleic looked around.
"Huh? Who's there?... Oh Mocha, if that's you, that dress of yours looks awfully frilly. Oh, no, it's your adult form. Your skin's, uh, clearing up!"
The skeleton went over to a side of the wall and turned a crank, and the man's bonds tightened; Cirruleic let out a screech of pain.
"He gets tortured for every attempted brown-nosing. He's a prince, so it's natural habit for him.", the skeleton explained.
The skeleton led him to the throne room.
"She should be up here."

The skeleton opened the door.
"Miss Mocha--"
A meterstick-long razor passed through one off his ribs, pinning him to the door.
Mocha, in her adult form this time around, was wearing a gas mask.
Yanking the razor out, she sighed.
"Knock, please."
"Y-Yes, Miss Mocha."
Mocha handed the skeleton a list, and some golden coins on a string.
The skeleton understood completely, as if it was his role, and, bowing, he left.
When he was left, Mocha extended her hand.
"Forgive me for not being so formal. I'm Mocha Zarathustra. Sure, my name is actually much longer, but it's embarrassing. I'm a descendant of Ridley, daughter of Death and Sexual Love. Sister to Plague, Royalty, Fate, and Imagination. Cousin to The Lady of The Lanterns, cousin-once-removed to The Messiah..."
She sighed, turning away to go back to her work, a man missing a limb; she was grafting a new one on. Like Cirruleic, he was wearing a mere tunic.
"I hate having to attach all those titles. I hate being godly."

Mocha sighed.
"I come from a family of gods. The Old Man demands I use those titles, or he'll send my family after me to kill me. My sister Ann looks too much like a woman my father hated, so he sends assassins to kill her. My own parents are afraid of me, so I'm ordered to stay away from them."
[[Montblanc: I'm not old! ^_^;;]]
She paused.
"I am asking you to be my adviser. I smell my blood on that armor, and your flesh smells like it came from Earth. In other words, you smell like that man who my mother has an unrequited love for."
[[Mahi: Ouch.]]
She went over to him, and felt the chestplate of the armor with one rubber-covered hand, and then flecked the dust off.
"Since I smell 'curse' all over you, and I know what you want, I can more than provide you with it, on one condition."

((Caleb:...I must have forgotten about the footnotes she wrote in my tomes.))
Caleb watched her walk up the stairs, feeling greatly ashamed about his reaction. Caleb, in truth, was plagued by remembrances of her. He deeply regretted meeting her, for she, most likely would have not had been murdered because for her love for Caleb. He as well, wished that he would be able to left go of her fully. He tried to love his student, but, he felt that would be able without getting her approval. He put down the tome, his heels clicking as he walked out the stairs to the kitchen, seeing his student cooking.
((?))

William made no reply. He didn't know what which was harder to believe. That this woman was flirting with him, or that she had told him he could remove his armor. So he ended up just staring at her, dumbfounded, then
he expiremently tried to lift the face mask on his cross helm, unsuccessfully. Why would she lie to me? thought William, as he kept trying to open his helmet. Oh wait, it's just rusty from never being opened. Finally, the helmet opened with a horrible grinding sound, revealing a man with with short, brown hair and brown eyes, and pale skin, though not as pale as would be expected from always being in armor.
"Thank you. Now, what exactly did you want me do?"
[[My bad]]

Caleb's mask watched her enter the portal and watched it disappear. A white pain filled Caleb's mind, and heart. He stood and waited, oddly, for her to return.

"Camilla?" Caleb questioned, his beaked mask snapping to the attention to his previous love. Her chestnut brown hair with slight curling that fell down to her shoulders, green eyes with a slight warm glow to them, and of course, a deep midnight blue dress with waxy white lace. Walking quite quickly to her, he had ignored some of what she had said. She was here.