Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2013 12:40:42 GMT -5
Usually when Belial spent time topside it was in nice places where the living gallivanted and socialized, not in the cemeteries and sewers of the world. He wasn't going to turn into one of those freakish haunters from the sci-fi flicks... but unfortunately business sometimes called for stereotypical wanderings through tombstones in old towns and cities where the mausoleums were older than the oldest church in town. Europe - parts of Italy in particular - was fraught with ancient tombs and old legends that frequently drew bad juju to them.
The witches here tended to practice old rites and rituals and things had a habit of getting messy... and with the current issue of demons going way over their quotas, summoning spells needed to be nipped in the bud early, lest anyone wanted to deal with the paperwork concerning what came next.
Usually things like this warranted a visit from some bit scary demon with claws and teeth, but Belial was looking for an escape from work. He was more distracted now than he had been in a long while, the added stress of Heaven's lockdown giving him more to think about than his six thousand years of life combined.The last few years topside had given him a whole new view of the world, and he had more to worry about that paperwork and organization now. He had an angelic lover that was now, for all intents and purposes, homeless and - thanks to his strong opinions and less than mainstream affiliations as far as Heaven's leadership was concerned - probably in trouble. Belial hadn't heard from Zadkiel in quite some time and that, in and of itself, was unsettling.
Of course, there was also the fact that the reapers were busy enough as it was. Sending them to deal with every little quota issue didn't exactly seem fair, so Bel used that as his excuse. Things were covered well enough in the second tier for now, so the Prince felt justified in his leaving.
Just the arrival of a white eye had been enough to scare off the idiots trying to summon up something far bigger than them, and Belial hadn't had to harm a single hair on their heads. A few bluffing threads and a cold, unfeeling stare had been enough to get them to flee the scene, leaving their buckets of blood and their carefully engraved blades behind.
Belial strolled now, weaving through the crumbling grave markers in the long since abandoned cemetery with one of those blades in his hand, twirling it between his fingers and examining every little, carefully distinguished detail. His eyes flickered occasionally to the sky, peering at the starless darkness and the hazy glow of the moon.
Bel wondered idly if a prayer would draw Zadkiel out... it wasn't as though he hadn't tried it before, but the angel hadn't come. That had been worrying enough, as Zak made a habit of popping in whenever Bel called if he sounded urgent enough. The white eye smiled at the memory of fluffy white feathers with their little golden tips that Zak worked so hard to hide. He still had one, tucked away somewhere in his office down in the second tier. It served as a link and a reminder of what Bel could rightfully call his.
Throwing caution to the wind and deciding to try his luck one last time. Finding a relatively stable looking stone, Belial sunk down onto the overgrown grave and leaned against the cool marble, eyes closing as he settled as comfortably as he could.
Hey, Zak. Don't know if you can hear me. Don't know if your little radio frequencies are tuned elsewhere... I've been trying to get in touch for a while... it's Bel. Belial. I miss you. Even if you can't hear me, well, I figured maybe just trying would make me feel better. It kind of does. I do this a lot. I'm in Rome...you should come visit. You know. If you can.
The witches here tended to practice old rites and rituals and things had a habit of getting messy... and with the current issue of demons going way over their quotas, summoning spells needed to be nipped in the bud early, lest anyone wanted to deal with the paperwork concerning what came next.
Usually things like this warranted a visit from some bit scary demon with claws and teeth, but Belial was looking for an escape from work. He was more distracted now than he had been in a long while, the added stress of Heaven's lockdown giving him more to think about than his six thousand years of life combined.The last few years topside had given him a whole new view of the world, and he had more to worry about that paperwork and organization now. He had an angelic lover that was now, for all intents and purposes, homeless and - thanks to his strong opinions and less than mainstream affiliations as far as Heaven's leadership was concerned - probably in trouble. Belial hadn't heard from Zadkiel in quite some time and that, in and of itself, was unsettling.
Of course, there was also the fact that the reapers were busy enough as it was. Sending them to deal with every little quota issue didn't exactly seem fair, so Bel used that as his excuse. Things were covered well enough in the second tier for now, so the Prince felt justified in his leaving.
Just the arrival of a white eye had been enough to scare off the idiots trying to summon up something far bigger than them, and Belial hadn't had to harm a single hair on their heads. A few bluffing threads and a cold, unfeeling stare had been enough to get them to flee the scene, leaving their buckets of blood and their carefully engraved blades behind.
Belial strolled now, weaving through the crumbling grave markers in the long since abandoned cemetery with one of those blades in his hand, twirling it between his fingers and examining every little, carefully distinguished detail. His eyes flickered occasionally to the sky, peering at the starless darkness and the hazy glow of the moon.
Bel wondered idly if a prayer would draw Zadkiel out... it wasn't as though he hadn't tried it before, but the angel hadn't come. That had been worrying enough, as Zak made a habit of popping in whenever Bel called if he sounded urgent enough. The white eye smiled at the memory of fluffy white feathers with their little golden tips that Zak worked so hard to hide. He still had one, tucked away somewhere in his office down in the second tier. It served as a link and a reminder of what Bel could rightfully call his.
Throwing caution to the wind and deciding to try his luck one last time. Finding a relatively stable looking stone, Belial sunk down onto the overgrown grave and leaned against the cool marble, eyes closing as he settled as comfortably as he could.
Hey, Zak. Don't know if you can hear me. Don't know if your little radio frequencies are tuned elsewhere... I've been trying to get in touch for a while... it's Bel. Belial. I miss you. Even if you can't hear me, well, I figured maybe just trying would make me feel better. It kind of does. I do this a lot. I'm in Rome...you should come visit. You know. If you can.