@North Pole
"So it's a father-daughter duo causing all this. Well, then it's just like chess. We knock out the king, the whole board belongs to us."
Deimos stands, and greets the new arrival once everyone else has introduced themselves. "The empress of the land just south of mine. A pleasure to have you in our halls. Call me Deimos. I'm the lord of Greenland, Iceland, and a bit of extra in-between. We were just discussing how to deal with a certain english issue..."
Though, when 'Tabula' makes her offer, he raises an eyebrow. "Can't say I ain't intrigued. But you're gonna have to give me some time to test 'em out. Don't feel like havin' you poison everyone in the hall and snatching up the planet for yourself anyway. But, if I do decide to take this. You got the look of someone who doesn't know shit about weapons."
An array of weapons - Swords, spears, clubs, bows, and other more esoteric ones - Appears from a pentagram, rotating around Deimos. "I figure we can work out a deal once we've taken care of this little family unit problem. Well, you lot come help if you wish, but... I think I got this."
And then the moth asks their question. The avatar of the demon king raises an eyebrow.
"Life, huh?"
He leans forward.
"I've been around a long time. Seem a lot of shit, a lot of people come and go. Humans, demons like me. Life's chaos. Life's massacres, and blood, and crackin' someone's skull open with a rock cause it's you or them. But to a demon like me? That's worth more than its weight in gold. It'd be awfully boring if we wiped it all out. That good enough for you?"
...
@ThisThingisReallyBroken
Over the skies of britannia, Deimos makes his appearance. He arrives at the northernmost point, a storm coming with him to block out the sun. The signifier Rom placed down is crushed under a gloom-enhanced heel, and he slams his own down in its place. He continues to the palace, and as he goes, he channels his energy, summoning monsters that fly and roar around him. The demon king laughs as he takes in the air... After all, he's secured a rather stylish ride.
He's crouched down, tendrils extending from his back and fused into the fighter jet he's riding atop, arms crossed as his coat flaps wildly behind him. Another tendril holds up a phone in front of him, which is broadcasting live to the world. Particularly, to the United Kingdom.
"Good Evening, people of Britain! You don't know me, but you don't have to... Yet. All you need to know I've got a little message for the wackjob that took over your country. Don't worry, it's nice and simple, even a brain-dead kid could get it!"
His eyes glow, grinning widely and baring his fangs for the world to see. "I pre-emptively accept your unconditional surrender. This nation belongs to me now."