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Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

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OPEN Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on June 29th 2018, 7:28 pm

"The usual?"

"Of course." The words escaped his mouth with a puff of smoke. The long-necked cigarette sat neatly in between the dapper'd up blonde's index and middle finger, the ember at its tip burning ever so slightly.

The stout-bellied, balding bartender waddled over to the other side of the bar and shortly returned with a tall glass of beer, carrying a small, off-white rag over the sleeve of his red and black flannel shirt. The foam that sat on the top of it almost matched the whiteness of the nearly-gigantic pair of neatly folded, pearly-white wings that were on the man's back who sat on the other side of the bar, hand on his brow that bent in distress. The middle-aged bartender, however, didn't seem awe-struck like any other normal person would be -- the look in his eyes was a gaze of deja-vu, as if he had seen something like him plenty of times.

"So," The bartender spoke, leaning forward so that his squishy torso could lean against the rotting wood of the three star bar that was, noticeably, empty except for them and three other people who were passed out in a corner somewhere. "What's on your mind, Josh?"

Joshua. Right. His name was Joshua. It was the "normal" name he picked soon after finding out that Beliel wasn't really a common one, and he hated being enthusiastically asked questions about his name. A couple weeks ago, he teleported this kid he had accidentally bumped into at a carnival to somewhere in North Korea for about a week for asking too many questions. That's how tired he was of it, and, now that he thought about it, it was worth it. He didn't even want to get started about what happened the first time he didn't hide his wings. He didn't feel like spilling his heart out to some human, despite the fact that Bob was a "stand up guy". He felt bad that he was going to be diagnosed with cancer in about a year, and that he was never going to reach his dream of becoming a professional singer.

"Just one of those nights, Bob." Beliel replied. He didn't know what that meant, but he heard depressed, middle-aged men say that at least twice every night he came to the bar. With a couple gigantic gulps, Beliel finished the tall glass of beer within seconds, wiping his mouth savagely. Joshua nodded, grabbed the glass, then walked over to refill it.

"Ya know, Josh," Bob's hair army casually shot across the bar to set another tall glass of beer in front of Beliel. "I think I know a place that'll cheer you up."

"Do tell."





-               -               -




"YES, YES, YES!"

The wooden frames of the bed snapped underneath Beliel's aggressive ramming under the red, silk covers that draped over his naked back,  complete with the sudden gasp that the figure underneath him ripped from the air, and after he had finally finished, he silently slipped out of the bed, leaving the enticing blonde breathing as if she had just ran a mile. With her nakedness obscured by the crimson-red sheets, the only thing that was visible was a sweaty face of ruined make up and a head full of long, messy blonde hair,  pearly-whites stained with red, ironically devilish lipstick. Her name was Star, and Beliel liked her very much, to say the least.

The set of cream-colored wings flapped irritably on his back as he stumbled before the tall mirror that was leaning up against the chipped, pea-green walls of the apartment building, and through the dimensions of cracks, dirt, and unknown stains that graced the mirror, there Beliel stood. At least, you'd think it was Beliel -- because at the moment, not even his own father could tell. If he cared enough. He was completely naked, and completely shitfaced. The bags underneath his golden-eyes were a coat of contrast to the layers of beauty and geriatricness that graced his optics, mixed in a pool of hurt, regret, and child like wonder about the world that was still so new to him, despite the thousands of years that he walked the land. His blonde hair was a fury of spikes and curls, the grease that he usually used to lay his hair down spread across  the bed sheets he had just risen from. His vision reminded him of this one computer game he played before, where you would bounce a ball all by two sticks.

After a minute or so, the heavy breathing finally drew lighter on the bed, and the sound of a lighter flick and a quick, desperate inhale ripped through the air already tinged with the smell of alcohol and newly-found smoke. Beliel stayed silent, and stumbled over to the door. The little grasp of equilibrium that he had left slipped from his fingers, and he fell onto his knees, and they dug into the floorboards.

"Hold on, playboy." Star shot up from the bed, having not a care in the world for her nakedness or Beliel's drunkenness, her raspy voice scraping against Beliel's ears. "You was the best I had, I won't lie. But you know you still gotta pay?"

Beliel stood up, and reached for the door handle.

"Hey, I said you gotta PAY!" Star leaped up from the grasp of the warm, broken bed, the smell of alcohol spiraling from her breath and into Beliel's face as her naked chest slammed into his back. Beliel immediately turned in his place with a furrowed brow, and backhanded the air with quickness matched with a drunken bitterness.

"Get OFF of ME!" He growled, and the rotating wrist that slung in the air slammed into Star's stomach, sending her flying several feet away from him and into the wall across the room.

What the hell had he just done?

Beliel turned around and stumbled, eyes wide with concern and disbelief. He hopped over the bed and raced towards Star, who was unconscious, leaning against the wall -- but no, something was holding her up. Something was --

No. God no, Beliel pleaded with himself and stepped back, roughly running his digits through his head full of hair that curled about omni-directionally. Star wasn't unconscious. She was dead. Her body was limp, hanging on the wall above a newfound pool of crimson-blood that was spreading across the rotting, aged wooden floors of the apartment building in New York City, where he had just killed a prostitute. Her naked stomach was covered in a splatter of red, interrupted by a darker pool of it that surrounded the thing that she landed on -- the thing that had jammed through her body when Beliel threw her. A metal coat hanger, poking right through her body.

Is this why father hated him?

Is this why he refused to acknowledge him?

Yes. It's because I'm a murderer.

With rapid breathing, Beliel stumbled to the large, chipped, white balcony doors just across from the foot of the small bed, and he swung them open with a force that ripped them from their hinges. He walked past them and onto the balcony as they dropped, a cloud of dust and regret piling behind him. The alibastar skies mixed with an ashen grey that the thick bodied clouds that graced the skies brought with their presence, and his ears shot through the usual sounds of car engines, arguments, and honking horns that the never-sleeping city brought, and into the presence of complete silence.

"I HATE YOUU!" The three words that were always ready to be released from the back of his tongue whiplashed off its tip, and into the sky above him. Thunder and lightning shook the yonder in the distance, and, seemingly, right on time, a single rain drop whipped through the silence and lightly tapped the middle of Beliel's head with a certain aura of fate.

"I just wanted to be free. Why can't I be free? Why does EVERYTHING that I do have to be controlled by YOU?! You, the almighty god! Oh, praise you!" Beliel turned and grabbed the long-necked bottle of rum behind him, took a messy swing from it, and launched it into the dark, heavy scenery before him. He had thrown it with such force that an afterimage formed behind it, and it shattered in the air before it could even get more than a few feet away. "Oh, praise you?! FUCK you! FUCK YOU!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE.." Beliel collapsed to his knees, his forehead laying in between the prison-like bars of the balcony banister. If he knew what the physical sensation of crying felt like, he would.

"SAY SOMETHING! YOU BASTARD!"

Thunder and lightning struck in the distance again. He was alone.

And he deserved it.


Last edited by castiel on June 29th 2018, 8:35 pm; edited 1 time in total
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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on June 29th 2018, 8:15 pm

Samael felt it with each breath, each minute beat of his heart and even each small amount of stimuli he took in. The very demonic essence that he once denied was taking root, accelerating and growing more powerful with the passing days. Even looking at holy symbols now was beginning to bring with it the longer pain of when he touched one so long ago. The phantom agony that caused him to press his teeth together to form an annoyed grimace on his features. The ginger cambion always had a reason for going places now aside from his shabby apartment hidden in Chicago and New York was no exception. Aside from trying to hide from his nephilim half-brother, he was looking into a case that involved a cult that purported to worship his father. These children of the Raven as they had come to calling themselves. Even he knew his father had no interest in that kind of thing.

Afterall he had an entire realm devoted to his very being. A few humans singing hymns was of no consequence.

Adam had taken to making his worry over the half-demon even more obvious lately, calling his cellphone at the very least aside from the phone calls which irritated him more than anything else. This city mired within human filth was something that he wanted to keep safe from those unstable enough to think a prince of hell wanted to help them in any way. Eventually he had come to ignore most of his text messages that were sent ad nauseum without any reason beyond human worry. Despite his love for the vampire, a small part of him was glad he didn’t have to deal with the verbal rebuttal of not answering a text. Immortals rarely ever held something so small as a slight in the end.

Why his disdain over religious symbols came up had a simpler reason. He had been on the way to a spot where he would find someone that had information about this cult, but one of those evangelical types stepped before him. FInely dressed in slacks with a clean shaven face and not unattractive features. He noticed him walking through the seedier parts of town, only a few feet from his friends. A crucifix hung brilliantly around his neck, dangling there like tacky metal testicles would dangle from the tailgate of a truck. They shouted spoke something about getting right with the lord, and something about metahumans being a sign of the end times. Lucius ALba was apparently the Anti-christ, though he saw the more more as just an annoying human with intense ideals. Despite being called the devil on earth, he was not literally that.

Everyone would have spoken about that.

Samael smirked, taking care to push the pamphlet back without snapping the poor young mans wrist. ”Sorry handsome, already got an express ticket.” Sunglasses were lowered, revealing eyes which lacked both pupils and sclera. Leaving only voids that oddly twinkled with intelligence. Their expression shifted from that friendly look to one of sheer horror, and the cambion laughed. Without a backwards glance he continued walking, moving around shabby looking complexes and homes until he came to the one. Small little details matched the picture he had been given on his phone, even down to how the front door sagged and had a seemingly ready to break door frame.

As usual his choice of clothes beyond sunglasses didn’t stand out. Just a black leather jacket over white shirt, and worn jeans tucked into boots. His hair was shortened on the side, with what looked to be a short scruffy beard of more ginger hair growing along his jaw. Senses took in the smell of humanity; sweat, waste and the sound of someone...moaning? Well that did make sense considering that his informant apparent did occasionally frequent prostitutes. It made sense for a demon that supposedly tied itself with lust, despite offering to help him. They were only half like himself, so that made some sense in the long run. Both likely had a more vested interest within the human world than within the world that had no interest in half measures.

He felt over the various runed weapons hidden within glamor on him. Knives, swords, small caliber guns enhanced with magic and various other things he took the time to make sure would hold up to most threats. The stairs creaked as he ascended the steps, picking out the room where the sound came from. He had noted what sounded like shouted and then the sound of something colliding with a wall. Now this was an interesting twist, or he was dealing with someone that liked to kill their ladies of the evening after finishing with them. The sharp scent of fresh spilled blood made that fact more apparent, and so he knew a little haste was needed. Not that the cambion cared one way or another what happened to someone who had sold themselves to something like him. In the end he had bought into the fact that his kind didn’t deserve love.

As he stepped through the door thunder struck in the distance and the distinct scent of...angel hit his nostrils. Hanging on the wall, metal poking through her abdomen was a woman with a trick falling from her slack jaw. ”Wasn’t expecting an angel here, or a dead woman. I suppose the divine are getting a little more visceral with their smiting tactics.” Despite how calm he seemed, Samael was more than on the defensive. Should they try to kill him, well the cambion had a few means by which he could defend himself from certain death. Beyond the haphazardly opened doors of the balcony he saw the crouching figure, naked and wretchedly wracked with emotion. ”Though your kind normally don’t vocally curse the sky, which is a new one.” With gloves slipped on, he slowly removed the woman from the hook and let he rest on the bed only a few steps away. At the very least she deserved to be sound in a more dignified position.

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on June 29th 2018, 9:04 pm

Beliel decided to keep his head low in the ground, feeling the cement push against his forehead. The winds touched with drizzles of rain droplets whistled through his vicinity ever-so briskly, running through the large, cream-colored feathers that hung on his back, running soggy from being touched by the crying sky's contents for more than a little time. Though the moment of time that he got to lay and feel as if he was floating in a land where time did not run was as peaceful as it was depressing, the cold hardness of the cement that pushed against his forehead, wet with rain and bulked with veins, was poetic, in a way. It reminded him of the sudden stillness that he had felt whenever he tried to talk to dad. The coldness, because he knew that he heard him. He knew that he knew everything. He knew, that he knew, that he was on the edge.

There he was: a part of a race deemed some of the most powerful beings in the multiverse, known for being fierce, brooding, and beautiful -- yet he was on a balcony in fetal position, hair a mess, and dealing with the sudden freshness of the fact that there was new blood on his hands. The only human life that he had ever taken, and it was a hooker that he had met in New York.

Suddenly, something spiraled around inside of him, tugging at the nerves of his instincts. After the wave of sudden surprise dissipated from his head clouded with alcohol and sadness, he had finally come to recognition of that feeling. Every muscle in his vessel's body had immediately locked up, and he could feel a certain heat radiating through him -- but it couldn't be. The feelings that were suddenly injected into him were trampled by a tidal wave of energy that hung over him like the brood silhouette of some fabled monster -- but something was different. A demon? Here, and now? Out of all times? But, no. The aura radiating to whatever that was coming down the hall way to the door of the apartment that was left a jar felt like one, but different. Different, and much more powerful.

Beliel rose to his bare feet as quick as he could, the head full of blonde-hair spiraling backward from its original position where it obscured most of his vision, then whip-lashing wetly against the piece of bare back in between the pair of neatly folded, although, wet, pair of cream-colored wings, and now, he was face to face with the newcomers, who he was almost a-hundred percent sure was a threat to him. With a sudden flex of his shoulders that shot suddenly shot backward, his wings were ripped from their crossed positioning, and they shot left and right at their full, almost gigantic capacity. The rain and winds roared on, unbothered by the turn of events, and his wings casted a silhouette of darkness upon Samael. After the powerful display, Beliel slightly stumbled backward -- did he have to be drunk now?

At least, he thought, give me the dignity to die sober and fighting.

The drink must have hit him heavy, because never once when he faced any opponent did he even think about dying. He didn't know what he wanted, and he didn't care to ask. With a face looking as if it was mimicking a famed Greek statue because of the certain cold sternness that graced it, Berniel shot his right hand out to his own side. Suddenly, in his hand, something appeared.



A golden dagger had appeared in his tight grasp that was wet with rain. It looked as if it was completely gold, and it reeked with a certain celestial power that, if Samael thought the smell of an Enochian to be so distinct, was usually known to at least give demons a headache before they were stabbed with it.

Lightning struck in the distance, and Beliel, standing at his full height, stood before the newcomer.

"You stink of Hell -- but what matters the most is that you leave me be. Fighting me won't put you on any favorites list upstairs."
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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on June 29th 2018, 10:47 pm

In a flurry of motion the angel had risen from its crouching position to one of power, at least that's what he assumed as the case. His knowledge of how they worked was limited considering his own exposure, and so the male just kept on edge. There was no telling how powerful this celestial was, and how quickly he would actually be able to dispatch the cambion should he want to. Instead his lips curled into a slightly amused line, considering the dangerous but not so covered angel curiously. Within a second they were face to face, the scent of angel nauseating and the concept that there was a dagger within his hand even more obvious. It took all the self control he had not to react in a violent fashion, muscles along his neck tensing for a second while he kept still.

There was no need to get the seemingly frightened angel stabbing him with holy weapons. Those injuries typically did not heal in the way that he wanted, but then again that was just a half-breeds sword compared to the genuine article. ”Typical angel behavior. All good looks but the manners don’t match.” He seemed to scan him over once again with a wry wink, guessing that any weapons he did wield would be conjured with a thought. That was how his kind were, and yet they didn’t tend to give into lust without...well consequences. ”Not really interested in your kind or even being in the same room as them. I was just hoping to find someone else here. Seems I was given bad information.” He stated plainly, letting the shadows rise like silent snakes behind the angel.

Precautions more than anything as they stayed within the darkness and did nothing more. ”Besides, I doubt any powers below would care much for me if I killed you anyhow. I doubt  an angel would commit my name to memory, but most demons don’t exactly like me either.” Samael was frank, his tone didn’t suggest any real attempt to lie to the angel. Last time he tangled with on of their kind ended with a rather nasty scar, one that began to pulse with pain. ”Was looking for someone that might have had information on a certain demonic cult, so if you could please get the hell out of my face.” Please. Now that was a new one but maybe he was just in one of those moods.

Should the one threatening him step down, the shadows would slink back where they belong without threatening them any further while the cambion didn’t actually relax.

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on June 29th 2018, 11:10 pm

The certain stench that the being before him had withered about in his nostrils. He knew that he probably could have ended the life of whatever it was that stood before him, but something inside of him whirled about, yanking him to the conclusion of lowering his blade and listening to him; but nothing inside of him was powerful enough to remove him from the gate of defenses.

Beliel was right about something being different. The.. thing.. before him had spoken about not being exactly liked by angels or demons, and that was something that Beliel could, even though he thought it impossible, relate to. But that reason wasn't enough to befriend some stranger that had somehow found him, nor help him in whatever self-driven crusade that he was on to find a.. cult?

Beliel's eyes cut to the sides like daggers when he stepped back about a foot, and he thought in the heat of the moment. It was no coincidence that something that he had never seen before had randomly popped up -- right after he had just finished "talking", or so, he thought, to his father, and the last time had been thousands of years ago. Was it the drunkenness that had birthed the thought of "God" picking him to help someone with their problems, or was it his own desperateness that clawed inside of him, aching to never become what so many of his people had thought him to be, what he thought himselfto be. The one without worth.

With a stumble and the spark of hope that he wouldn't be, after already being caught with a prostitute's blood on his hands, caught being drunk, he brushed past Samael, purposely letting his shoulder dig roughly into his arm as he passed. His bare feet made a "pit-pat" sound against the wooden floorboards after he struggled to move across the two balcony doors that he had ripped from his hinges, and he grasped another rather sizely bottle of rum next to the bed that held the dead hooker.

He removed the cork and took a swig from it, his hair hanging mainly over his left golden eye as he peered at his reflection in the bed-side table constructed of reflective metals.

"What are you?" His voice slightly croaked as he set the bottle down, and turned so that his naked
form could face Samael.
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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on June 30th 2018, 5:10 pm

Samael expected to be struck down by the blessed blade, but instead it was stowed away without being stained by black blood. That demon portion of himself wanted to strike out at the being before him, and yet here he was not doing so. Instead he found himself looking to the bare angel, arcing a brow while they even turned from him and picked up a bottle of alcohol beyond the broken doors. Having them rudely bump into his shoulder was annoying, however he kept his attention on the angel who seemed less than pleased with his existence. Now that was something that sounded familiar.

Trailing around the bed now considering the poor dead woman, he internally wondered who she had been. Despite part of him believing she deserved it, another part couldn’t help thinking she had someone that loved her. Now someone that would mourn their daughter, sister or maybe even mother from the look of her. Angels were nothing more than glorified sociopaths within his mind. Caring little for the lives of those that they trampled on for the sake of some god. Eventually the angels voice croaked out a question, Samael smelling the tinge of alcohol in the air.

”Would've thought someone like you could have guessed by now.” He sounded almost surprised, raking fingers down the dead woman's face to close her eyes. ”I’m a cambion, half human and half demon if you want the full thing.” It sounded almost like something he didn’t really have to explain. As if he were telling something that anyone should have known from name alone. Turning from the corpse, he fully considered the angel who seemed to hold no reservations about revealing their full form to him. Well defined, and even attractive on anyone else. Still the concept of feeling any manner of lust towards an angel did not appeal beyond hormonal reactions.

”So, not that the whole no clothes thing is a major thing but would you mind putting something on?” He stated, knowing that a small part of him did mind it. That part that also cared about modesty for some unknown reason.

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on June 30th 2018, 6:00 pm

Beliel thought he should have guessed by now, too. With wide eyes, he thought: He should've known by now. There was one of the most powerful threats to both Heaven and Hell standing right before him; a Cambion. A half-breed, that be classified as one if they were half-angel, half human, half-demon half human, or even half-angel and half demon, which was, in the eyes of almost everyone, a monstrosity. Even to demons, and that was something hard to swallow. Especially if you were one yourself.

They were known to be incredibly powerful, and were, usually, outcasted and slaughtered like animals. He sometimes remembered attending some of the slaughters that they would treat like some kind of "party". It was the only fun thing that there was to do -- but it was, to say the least, inhumane, and only came around every few eons. If that didn't speak volume on why he wanted to leave there so bad, then he didn't know what would. Beliel didn't know whether to run or be embarrassed that he was so drunk that he was in a New York apartment building talking to something that was supposed to be his grave enemy. After a second of thinking, he came to the conclusion that a lot of other things had changed since he'd left home, and he shouldn't be that surprised.

He didn't understand exactly why a being a part of one of the most powerful races in creation was uncomfortable with him being naked. But, he was half human. And every since a certain pivotal moment in history, they acted as if they were "too good" for clothing. His eyes transformed from their widened forms, and with a scoff and a snap of his fingers, suddenly, his naked form was covered in rather sharp attire.

The dapper'd up appearance brought out the dashing golden shimmer that blinked in the celestial pool of his eyes -- he was dressed formally, in a neatly pressed white button down shirt and black, perfectly fitted black dress pants. Over the white dress shirt was a light lavender vest with black buttons that drew down the middle, his outfit, though missing shoes, was complete with a perfectly pressed black tie. A row of neatly tucked cigarettes sat in the vest pocket. It seemed that, in his rather glamorous transformation, the drunkenness had been drained from his light gaze, once splattered in ruggedness.

Beliel tugged down at his vest and his shirt, and all of the wrinkles in the fabric suddenly disappeared at once. The pair of almost gigantic, cream-colored wings on his back flapped in their attempt to adjust. In the heat of the moment, he decided that he'd play along with whatever game was being played within him. Even in the midst of depression and all, he liked games. His facial expression transformed from its loose, drunken state to a seriousness that looked as if it had been constructed by that of a renaissance sculptor, something that all angels had shared in common. They were always seen as physically flawless, and, much to his dislike, Beliel was considered an ugly angel, despite how "beautiful" he looked. This was "established" when he had become Heaven's number one topic to gossip about, but he, though it secretly hurt him, brushed it off as bitterness. Though they looked as if they were constructed without a mistake, the insides were just the opposite.

Beliel swiftly moved past Samael again with an aura of relaxation, stepping back out onto the balcony and setting his palms down on the chipped metal of the balcony banister. After a sly second of silence, he turned, and stuck his hand out before him. "Beliel, He Without Worth. A demonic cult, you say?"
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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on July 1st 2018, 2:23 am

Samael saw some of the recognition that came across the angels face. As if simply saying what he was gave more information than any real insinuation. His kind were just another thing that the celestial were meant to hate, sometimes without reason beyond the fact he had been born evil. Only death could cleanse his soul so many had said while wielding heavenly fire and crystalline swords. Many seemed to have false assumptions about his own power, though even then he managed to escape simply through guile and skill rather than raw power. That slowly seemed to be changing, even if it put him below most of his cambion siblings and of course Asmoday. She was however an odd case, considering that well she would not be something an angel enjoyed.

With what looked to be an amused expression, the angel snapped and covered himself. An attractive annoyance and one that had interestingly good tastes in clothing. Now their standings in the universe were shown through the simple application of bodily coverings. Not that many would think about something so minute like that. Instead he smirked, looking him over once again before chuckling. Within an instant he had gone from drunken mess to something more than that. The very image of an angel, despite how he imagined there would have been more celestial light. Were his mind not so poisoned with disdain for angels, Samael might have even found himself interested to an extent. Instead they were doing something that was of greater importance.

The angel walked beyond him and stepped onto the balcony, all the more controlled of his own faculties. Was it that easy for the divine to shake something off like that without any real issue? A small part of him felt envy towards the ability to do that. ”Samael, poison of god or blindness if you want that definition.” He added in once the angel gave their name as they questioned about the cult. Now that was an interesting little question, something he didn’t know if he wanted to give the full answer. There was always someone willing to blame him for the sins of his father.

A common mistake of humans honestly.

”As for the cult, it’s a bunch of humans that want my father to notice them. They seem to think that just killing a few virgins or goats would be enough to actually get him to favor them like he’s a dime store Satan.” His eyes considered the hand extended before him and hesitantly shook it. ”I’ll have to warn you that working with me might make you come to odds with my brother. He isn’t exactly pleased with my existence.” He added, pulling the hand back and burying it into his pockets. ”So, got your own ride or should I let you ride on mine?”

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on July 1st 2018, 2:58 pm

Samael, poison of God. Would the definition of that name serve to be fatal to him later on? Beliel didn't know, and honestly, a part of him didn't care. He was done following the rules, and he was done caring too much about what happened to him. He hadn't come to Earth to be stuck in the same place with the same people every day, but he had come to experience new things. Even if he had to work with a demon -- or half of it.

Beliel removed one of the long-necked cigarettes from the loose hold of his silk vest pocket, and let popped it into the hanging grasp of his lips. With a snap of his fingers, a small flame ignited, and formed a small ember at the tip of the cigarette. A thick cloud of smoke exploded from his nostrils along with the side of his mouth, and a bit of ash dropped before withering away into nothingness. He finally drew back his hand from Samael's and removed the cigarette from his lips with another puff of smoke.

"Your father must be well known," Beliel ashed his cigarette. "And i'm sure that your brother won't be a problem. I'll take.. these," His wings flapped a bit behind him. "And hopefully you can get around. How are those automobiles humans ride? I heard they're pretty.. slow."
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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on July 1st 2018, 3:40 pm

Here Samael was conversing with an angel rather than being locked in what could only be described as mortal combat with them. Calling himself the poison of god likely did not help any, considering many would think a demon with the name of an angel as blasphemous. That always seemed to be a gripe with the divinely minded, enough so that he preferred to just refer to himself as a shorter name and yet here he was. Perhaps just to see how this one would react in particular. The angel removed one of his cigara from the pocket, and Samael mirrored him with a small packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. Slightly squished, but still viable enough as shown by him removing one.

”My father is very infamous among those that know a little about demons. Might not be Satan but I guess a Prince of Hell is also good enough for some. Easier to get ahold of i’ve been told.” With a flick he brought to life a flame from his battered bic lighter. Taking a drag and blowing the smoke out in a small, yet billowing cloud from his nostrils. Almost demonic in a fashion, considering many associated smoke with them anyhow. Giving he butt a flick, he let the half lite and used ashes fall to the floor.

”An informant of mine was supposed to be here to give me information on the Cults next gathering but I found an angel instead. Some would call it fate and others would call it bad luck.” Another drag, the sudden buzz giving him a certain calmness about the situation. ”I’m sure we could handle him just fine, unless he’s gotten stronger. That’s always a possibility. Though I doubt my bike will be too slow, unless you’re one of those people that move fast as a jetplane or whatever. That’s a different story.” Would they even know what a jetplane was? Some angels were so clueless about the world that they tended to make themselves come off as stupid despite what could be called heavenly wisdom.

Removing his cellphone from his pocket, Samael dialed a number and called. After a few rings someone picked up. ”Hey, the information you gave me was wrong.” He growled into the speaker,  eyes narrowed in an annoyed fashion behind his glasses.

”No that can’t be right. I was told he would be right there waiting for you.” The voice beyond said sounding a little agitated.

”Well that’s obviously wrong because all I found was a naked angel and a dead hooker. Not exactly on the list of things I was expecting. Beginning to question why the big guy keeps you around.”

”Hey now, no need to bring Osiris up in this. I’m sure you informant might just be running a little late.” Now he was beginning to sweat. No many vampires wanted to anger the person that could roast them with a thought. Especially someone they couldn’t just run away from.

”If you don’t want anything reaching his ears, then I would suggest getting the information I want or getting them here now.’ A few more groveling words and hge was left with someone that hung up on him. It looked like he might have burned a bridge here, however he didn’t like the idea of allowing stupid humans free reign in their human sacrifices. After a few seconds came what looked like an address, and one that was settled in side a club he had gone to before. Not one he was very welcome to and yet one that would have a good amount of information.

”Alright I know where we’ll need to go. Hope you don’t mind nightclubs because that’s our next stop. Guess i’ll try to keep up or whatever.” Stepping past the angel he pulled himself over the edge of the balcony and seemed to plummet downwards before impacting concrete on his feet. A few cracks spiderwebbed outwards from the point of impact but he didn’t feel anything that came close to pain. His body could take a plummet from the second story without even being bothered. From this view he could see his motorcycle, this slightly dingy but overall fine looking piece of equipment. Throwing a leg over it he revved it up and then they would be off.

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on July 1st 2018, 10:25 pm

Beliel listened to him as he seemed to be arguing with a man over the phone. His name was Samael, and he, according to himself, he was a prince of Hell. Beliel knew that the strong aura that he sensed on his arrival had seemed to even rise over the peek of a Nephilim's-- or a Cambrion's usual potency. It blinked in the back of the head, but he pushed onward, tugged by curiosity and possibility-- maybe father wanted him to do something good for someone, even if was for a half-breed demon.

The ideology behind his actions seemed ridiculous, much too similar to humans claim they were on a  mission gifted from "Jesus Christ", begging for his approval in secret. Beliel snapped it out of his mind with a slight nod. Samael had spoke something about going to a nightclub, and since he'd been on Earth, he visited plenty.

One thing that he began to explore about himself when he visited Earth for the first time, was that he particularly enjoyed indulging in alcohol, smoking, and women; in contrast to how disgusted he still was of humans and human nature.

Suddenly, the half-breed passed him in a equilibrium-gaining right foot, and then rip himself over the balcony and plummet face first, before swiftly turning and slamming into the ground with a very super-hero-ish landing, cracking the concrete underneath him. He thought that the thing was showing off, but he thought that maybe he was a fan of the meta-human things he had heard so much about when he came to New York.

Beliel watched him climb to his motorcycle, then ride off through the wake of revving engines, then shrugged. His left, bare foot shot up on the balcony banister, then shot him into the air at the same his wings spread outward from their usually rested position. The almost gigantic pair of cream-colored rings flapped once, carrying him at a distance that had already gone a bit past Samael's motorycle.

He'd hang back in the speed because of the slow-moving motorcycle a the famed prince of Hell drove. For what reasons, Beliel didn't know. He always found human methods of traveling were too slow, and ridiculous.
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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on July 2nd 2018, 5:04 pm

The speed of his motorcycle was more than he could reach on foot, though going so fast would have brought annoying cops onto him alongside flying just bringing eyes on him. Not many would want to look upon a dark eyed and dark winged metahuman flying above them. Love for the powered individuals was dwindling to the point that he wouldn’t be surprised if people tried to lynch him eventually. So many people that would need to die if they made the mistake of threatening the cambion in any meaningful way. Having an angel fly not so far from him was a strange feeling, especially since he knew that the angel had no intentions of killing him yet. Would they prove useful or would they just turn on him once the situation had been finished.

A few people turned their attention to the ginger blasting through the streets until he stopped before their destination. The nightclub itself wasn’t exactly bad looking, nothing that he wasn’t used to at this point with a few people stepping through the door decorated by a few flyers. Mostly events they had in the hopes of attracting more people, to make more money even. Kicking down the stand, he felt the vehicle idle as Samael stepped from the cycle and looked around for the angel that had been following. Eventually he imagined they would land, likely drawing a little attention in the parking lot but then again people in New York were used to sightings. Some would have even approached the meta in the hopes of getting pictures with them. Idiots all of them, but Samael knew better than to draw attention.

Felons had little reason to want such attention when they were still technically on the run. ”Here it is. Try not to draw too much attention to yourself, there are a few annoying types here who might get pissed with having their operation messed with.” Powerful vampires, humans with magic in their hands and other assholes he had learned much about the last time he came here. Admittedly this was where he met Adam those many years ago. Cocksure, alluring and strangely understanding of his situation despite how much they argued at length then. ”They’re also not too fond of your kind, so I guess it would be better not to step on any toes for you.” Despite holding that radiance most angels did, something felt off about this Beliel guy.

Only time would tell what that was and his curiosity might have waned by then. Not that he ever really tried to keep interests within the divine sorts that came across him. The two approached as a large, dark skinned man stood before them, human in appearance with rippling muscles that came through a tightly fitting white shirt. His glare from behind the glasses was obvious, focusing on the cambion and then to the other with an even more critical knitting of the brows. ”I know.” He dug out what looked to be a crisp hundred, as the bouncer stepped aside and let the two through. He would have been allowed fine, but there were small fees to letting others in.

Beyond the door music began to pulse through the air, people dancing and drinking away colorful drinks. Some were human, sticking close to paler looking individuals that were obviously not. Glamors ran rampant with those that didn’t look human enough, allowing them to mingle within the world they knew they had not place in. Approaching the bar, he rapped it a few time sand the bartender came. ”Bloody mary on the rocks, hold the A positive.” He grinned wolfishly while they nodded and walked away, Samael taking a seat. ”Take a seat. Try not to kill anyone, I don’t need to hide anymore bodies now.”

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on July 3rd 2018, 12:20 pm

Beliel, with a few more flaps of his wings, had ascended into the grasp of the clouds when the eyes from the streets had gotten too much for him. He was prideful, sure, but the spark of amazement in the eyes of any human that got the chance to see him in his "natural glory" had a naive, child-like glow that somewhat irritated him, awakening the stirring feeling of disgust that he had displayed numerous times towards humans. He found that he liked animals more on his time on Earth.

Though he seemed to be miles above Samael, he could still, luckily, feel the cambion's pulsing aura of unique power, making it easier for him to stay on track. The sun danced against the large feathers that were spread across his wings, the reflective surface of the white hairs and the beams of sun light creating a diamond-like dance of flickering little lights. They had finally arrived at their destination.

He came across the decision to do the opposite of "making his presence known". Beliel had the privilege to pick and choose who could see him, at least, when it came to humans. He didn't feel like all of the gaping and the "selfies" -- he honestly didn't think that he could stomach it. With a quick bullet-like dive through the clouds, he swung back so that his bare feet could face the ground in his landing. The pair of wings on his back flapped outward once, before retracting into their folded positions. He took a quick look at the nightclub, back at Samael, then back at the nightclub.

The both of them, at least to him, were nothing much to look at. The nightclub seemed to be the exact opposite of the high-end places that he found himself in, and the certain energies that radiated from the inside told him that there were more than just humans in that bar. A lot of the supernatural creatures, some of which he had even ran into, had an unusual and rather unhealthy fascination with humans that he never could understand. Samael led him to the front of the club where a brooding African-American man let them in after payment.

The lights flashing about were just as colorful as the drinks that were traveling each and every way on and off the dance floor. He did enjoy the feeling that the bass gave him when it rippled through the floor and through the rest of his body, even making his blonde hair do a slight jump at times. After a second of analyzing, while absentmindedly following behind the half-breed, he had, after doing a bit of eavesdropping with his rather.. talented hearing, come to a conclusion about the club.

It was mutual hunting ground.

Where the blood-suckers and meat-eaters would come and pick up a few snacks, clueless and definitely willing. He found it quite disgusting, yet interesting. They preyed on the capital weakness of human nature -- lust, greed, etc. That's all that it took to get them out of the back door that his eyes locked on to across the dance floor, where some kind of monster with a sharp-toothed grin was leaving with some human barely in their twenties. Beliel was no fool when it came to the glares that his wings had gotten from creatures whom he would have to apply a different amount of pressure on to hide himself from, and he was ready for anything.

He quietly followed behind Samael's "instructions", and took a seat beside him, golden eyes carelessly, almost daringly washing over a group of "people" who were eyeing him from across the room. He would alert Samael when the time was right, if he hadn't taken notice of them already.

"What happened in that room was a first time slip up," Beliel replied, "I don't usually get my hands dirty unless I have to."


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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by Samael Christensen on July 4th 2018, 7:12 pm

The two now stood in a hunting ground, various creatures looking over humans that likely would have piqued their interest in various senses. A few looked to Samael, but the second they smelled out his demon blood the interest was lost. His own warning was also something that would keep these monsters from taking offense to having one of their pretty little humans broken by anyone except them. ”I hope that’s the case. I know a few people that take offense to having their prostitutes killed.” Whether that be because they pimped them out or were more related to them, well that was an unknown. A glass came down on the bar, thick red liquid sloshing with a few ice cubes. He sniffed over the drink and took a small swig of it. It tasted salty with the same sensation that came with vodka, a slight burn from what he assumed was just rather strong booze mixed in.

A few people moved out the corner of his eyes, looking for anyone that took a particular interest in him. There would likely be someone waiting for him, at the very least that was what he had been hoping would be the case. It was difficult to know considering he had been thrown off the trail the last time he had been sent on a trail. Having an angel actually listen to what he was saying a strange sensation, even if he was likely only doing so he could shut down the cult that was doing what it wanted. Would his father even take an interest in their rantings and sacrifices? That was when he noted something, a male breaking from the crowd. Dark brown hair, black eyes and a ponderous smile as they settled next to the ginger cambion. A glance went to the angel, but nothing about them really stood out to him.

”So are you the actual informant or just another dead end?” Samael questioned, taking another draught of his drink before letting their eyes lock.

”That I am.” He said, bartender passing him a scotch with a large piece of ice floating in the center. ”Heard you were looking into the cult of Malphas, not something any sane person would do. Though I guess The Raven Prince would want to stick it to his old man, huh?” A ponderous question, one that seemed to have little interest within what he was doing.

”Something along those lines. Guy over here also seems to have an interest in stopping that shit.” With a small motion of his thumb to Beliel,

”Sounds about right. Angel types always seem to have their odds against cults. Had someone come in here question about the cult, just with a few more threats. Think he was also looking for you.” A small motion to Samael, who seemed to know what that was about. ”Might still be around if you want to avoid them.”

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OPEN Re: Hey, Dad. It's Me. [Beliel]

Post by castiel on July 15th 2018, 3:46 pm

Samael, after he had gotten his drink from the bartender, began talking to someone who had randomly broken from the crowd of "people" that Beliel still found quite interesting. Way more interesting than the conversation that was going on right next to him. Beliel was interested in the action and the adventure -- the only two things that would numb the almost crippling shell-shock of the fact that he was teaming up with a demon-hybrid to.. disorganize some type of cult.

He didn't know if he actually thought that he was meant to be helping his new "friend", or if he was simply.. bored. Whatever it was, he decided minutes ago that he would go with the flow. It was better than having the same job until the end of time upstairs. With a slight shiver after a yank at his mind from the grasp of flashbacks from Heaven, he injected himself back into the conversation at just the right time.

"Why should we avoid whoever it is? We're already at an astounding lack of information.." Beliel folded his arms across his chest, his golden-tinted eyes locking onto the informant's own that were filled with a conniving darkness. "Which way did he go?"
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