Snack Service apologizes for being mean, but it's the only way to snap Pilar out of it!

*SNAP*

"Hey, Paxti.  Here's a cookie from me to celebrate being rescued from the dumbest ass in Security who hasn't worked out the reason that all the other Securities have gone very still and well-behaved, without any explicit order changes that would require their superiors to admit they made a mistake."

"And you.  You get one warning.  Fuck off, behave yourself, and don't bother anyone or pull any shit until Sevar gets back with explicit orders about what to do next."

"Oh.  You.  You're the Caydenite who likes being raped, aren't you?  I'll get around to you, don't worry."

"When you get to Hell shortly, let your owner see within your mind that Pilar Pineda, trusted of Aspexia Rugatonn, did instruct them in Asmodeus's name and as HER OWN incentive that you spend every minute until you get Raised being kicked repeatedly in the testicles."

"Oh, now this I have to see.  You think you can -"

"In the name of friendship, DIE."

"I am the most proven Asmodean in Project Lawful.  I am the sanest person in Project Lawful.  I am the scariest person in Project Lawful.  And right now, I AM THE MOST ANNOYED PERSON IN PROJECT LAWFUL.  THIS DOMINANCE CONTEST IS OVER.  I WIN.  NOW BEHAVE LIKE FUCKING SANE PEOPLE UNTIL SEVAR GETS BACK OR I WILL FUCKING MAKE YOU BEHAVE."

Pilar then promptly turns herself in to higher authority with a complete and slightly less than fully professional report, including the fact that Snack Service said that she needed to think and act on her own before seeking orders from the Most High for maximum benefit to Asmodeus.

" - good for her. Does she formally have the command right now or is she just, uh, doing that independently."

"It was not deemed wise to recognize the resulting informal arrangement formally, but it was made clear to Maillol and to Subirachs's replacement that they were to seek Pilar's counsel on matters related to ilanism or tropes."

...Subirachs's replacement. So Abrogail is as angry as Carissa, then, even if she's not showing it. Good. 

"Progress on chemistry is accelerating under Avaricia, and if there's any difference between before and after Pilar imposed her order, I know not the mathematics to detect it.  Neither I nor Aspexia feel impressed by Avaricia's attempts at training her own ilani, but Asmodia's own attempts in that direction seemed to scarcely fare better, nor have the smartest wizards exposed to Project transcripts seemed to change even as much as I would detect in perhaps Gregoria.  It seems almost as though there is some magic in direct exposure to Project Lawful's secret power source which transformed them towards ilani, and the transcripts alone do not carry it... which, to be clear, I very much hope is not the case, or that you have absorbed it as well."

"We do have twenty very promising candidates for your next attempts at training, obtained by somewhat unusual means..."

Rosal Monserrat can cast Light, Detect Magic, Read Magic, Prestidigitation, Comprehend Languages, Endure Elements.  That is how outstanding her mathematical talents are, how good with numbers she was as a child and delighted in them; that as a successful merchant's sixth daughter, sired on his third wife, she was given that much of a wizarding education.  Not taught in a wizard academy, of course, but permitted to hang about the magic lessons in which his third son was being tutored.

A year or so after those lessons ended, the house's fifth daughter was due to be married off to an older man, rich and successful, strong-looking and with the appearance of a short temper; to Rosal, he seemed rather like the sort who might hit her sister.  Surely, she had thought, a Good person would do something about that - though she obviously had little to no power, in her household, and the alliance was not one her father could afford to lose -

Rosal Monserrat, who was not as pretty but did have that wizardry going for her, put forth her best effort at seduction and managed to get herself inserted in her sister's stead.

It is a year later now, and Rosal Monserrat is reading in her bedroom by the glow of her Light spell, feeling miserable, with fresh bruises yellowing about her face, her eyes, her thighs.

"You're corrupting him, you know."

Rosal is whirled about, standing, holding in her hands the letter-opener from her desk as if it were a real weapon.  "Who goes?  Who dares?"

"Your husband was a Good man, before you thrust yourself into his life."

Rosal stares at the shadowy figure who's stepped out of the corner of her bedroom, her heart hammering in her ears, not quite loudly enough that she doesn't realize that the rest of the household is far, far too silent; this is a mage, a real one, not her miserable imitation, and if they want her death or her hostagehood she will have very little say about the matter.

"What do you want?" Rosal says, because it's possible that if she asks she'll be told.

"To trade your soul for your husband's."

"I - do not understand -"  Apart from how it's even scarier.

"He was a man of charitable works until he met you, and now you ply him with drink and try to maneuver him into beating you.  He'd go to the Maelstrom instead of Elysium, at this rate, maybe even the Abyss.  And at the end of your own life, Pharasma would judge you for Axis, for your other attempts at Good deeds and charity to ease the guilt you feel."

"You belong in Hell.  Both Elysium and Hell would be better off, if he and you went there."

"I d-don't belong in Hell - who are you?!"

"Someone who belongs a little less to Hell than you do.  I've loved other people.  You never have.  I've wanted to do Good deeds out of the kindness in my own heart.  You've never felt any impulse to Goodness that wasn't about guilt and rules and what the authorities in your life raised you to believe you ought to do.  You don't want to do Good, you don't want Good things to happen, you want to be obedient and clean and not defy what your priests and parents and teachers told you was right.  I want pain in part because it's in my sexuality, you want pain only because you know you deserve it."

"You need someone to correct you, set you right, hurt you the way you deserve, let you pay for your mistakes, keep you in your place and sear away all the wretchedness inside you, and the problem, you see, is that your husband isn't a devil and can't give that to you.  You belong to Hell.  You've always belonged to Hell.  If you'd grown up in Cheliax you would have been a powerful wizard and a faithful Asmodean, and if you'd been assigned to corrupt a man like your husband you would have gloried in the pure service of it."

"What do you want from me?"

"Your soul for your husband's.  He's no angel for all his charity, or he wouldn't go along with you, but he can pull himself together if his wife doesn't pour out drinks for him.  You're such terribly bad people for each other, and someone else might call that lovely, but Good and Evil both have better uses for you two."

"Come with me to where you belong, freely and of your own will, setting aside that halfhearted attempt to be Good and assuaging your guilt with the knowledge that your husband's soul will be saved by the last decision you ever make in Goodness's name.  I'll leave behind a magic item that repays your brideprice and then some, and he won't try marrying again."