Lord Beelzebub

[Continued from here]

Beelzebub had finished his drink as Loki just passed out. He nearly slid off the chair and under the table. He eventually just tosses Loki over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walks home.

Laying Loki on the lounge chair he heads to the nearby building. He has a few things to make in the forge. The pounding of hammer on metal probably wasn't going to be the best for the drunk god when he woke up. However, Beelzebub didn't think about this because he doesn't get hangovers.

(This is a general thread for meeting up with Beelzebub in person as opposed to calling him.)


Beelzebub, after awhile, becomes a creature of habit. Perhaps it is the warrior training, or the mind of a tactician with set ways of thinking. Whatever the reason for his habits it made him easy to find. The three most common places a bar, a training field, or his forge.

His choice of bars is always darker, not seedy but places with low light and loud from voices instead of music. It suited his temperament and hatred for loud noises and bright lights. He was also jovial, more likely to be found engaged in a drinking game or a loud conversation than other bar activities like dancing. Good liquor was a must but it fell in below atmosphere and company. Why worry when you could manifest your own. Though even when he altered the drinks he always made sure to buy and keep the place in business. Despite his love of company, a back to the wall and a high chair or stool to accommodate wings was always his preferred placement. More comfortable where he could keep an eye on the door.

The second most common place was at the forge or his training circle. A weapons maker and armorer by trade, he liked to work and perfect his craft. Even after billions of years there were still imperfections or new designs to work out. Though, even above that he liked to mentor man and beast for combat. Some days it was a warhorse he was running through the paces of battle, or a dog training to watch its warriors back and disarm threats. Just as often his sparring companions were others seeking a lesson or foolish enough to come for a challenge. He didn't care either way. Always prepared to wield wooden training swords or steel in a bout. Betting and audiences were not to be discouraged. Where was the fun in friendly confrontation if there was no one to see, and no fun for the spectators?

The forge at his home is an easy place to find the angel. As the weapon and armor smith for embattled angels, he's never short on work. Set at the edge of the property, the forge is open to anyone when the angel is at work either with metal or leather in the nearby tannery building. He will complete fair commissions for weapons, armor, repairs, and leather items. The Forge is one of the places he feels comfortable and happy. It is also one of the rare places where you will find Beelzebub sober.

Anyone looking for Beelzebub wouldn't have trouble finding him. He was becoming known in the Nexus, especially in the dive bars and local pubs where his presence meant the place might make a fortune from running out of booze, even if the cost was a bar fight or some other rowdy happenings before the night was through. Over turned police cars, spontaneous parties, and things even more debaucherous when his brother were around, were the hallmark of his presence.

It was still early in the night. Beelzebub was in one of his favorite dives because it tended to have patrons interested in light hearted drinking games and occasional gambling. This place also had a wide variety of hard liquors; local and from around the multiverse, which made it all the more appealing. Never too loud with music or blinding with lights it was on the dingy side which suited him just as well.

He had found himself in a corner high table, pretty much his table in this place up on a bar stool which was the only practical bar seating for an angel with huge wings. He's beneath a pale yellow light. A pitcher and small ceramic cup on the table where he sat reading, of all things. He was deeply involved in a celestial text, stolen from heaven, about warding systems for purification and not paying much attention to his surroundings.

It was a week since Lucifer had dragged him out for a two day wine binge while looking for the perfect valentine's dinner wine. Not that Beelzebub disliked drinking with his brother. In fact, it had been way too long since he spent quality down time with his brother and king. Of course he had endured unending taunting about Galahad but he dished it back in equal measure.

The aftermath of all that fun was a semi-tailspin as Beelzebub wondered what to do for this new and mysterious holiday. Ok, it wasn't mysterious. It made perfect sense but what to do for it had ate at his brain for days. Finally, he had an epiphany. It had taken some manuvering and involving Astaroth to talk the people involved in circles until they agreed to push things thorough.

That had been three days ago. Now, it was early morning. Galahad, as usual for several times a week, had gone to the market leaving the angel to read and take care of thier animals. This was routine. The rest of the day, was going to be completely different.

For nexus_crossings 3. . A small gesture yielding a small but noticeable result. And for knightgallant

( Interspecies Tactics )