Game Of Thrones.

"Do I believe in such things? Hell no." She would say automatically, a low growl escaping her lips as they spoke about the Gods. Ha. They never did anything for her, so why should she believe in such nonsense? The ivory sadist shook the thought away with a small chuckle, her next set of lyrics laced with venom. "Ahh, but my dear Amenti. There ain't no rest for the wicked." She would tell the white demon with a wink, gold and amethyst topaz orbs flicking over to the river of hell.

It was possibly her most favorite quote in history, because it was so damn true. Anzhelika, a wicked bitch herself, knew she had insanity problems. Oh, and when Eric came back, it would be Hell on Earth. The mentally ill were something the Gods did not put their time into, or seem to care about. But, Anzhelika was definitely acquainted with the Devil.

The ivory sadist pushed her thoughts aside, gaze of yellow and violet landing back on the pale lady. She awaited her response patiently, wrapping her tail neatly over her paws.