Lord Beelzebub (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hesperussword) wrote2020-03-08 05:45 pm
hesperussword) wrote2020-03-08 05:45 pm
Entry tags:
For rockandrollvampire
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 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.
no subject
"Trinkets and keepsakes are the easiest way to bring certain memories to mind," he adds. God knows the number of bits and baubles he's picked up and dropped over the last three centuries to keep certain people he's lost closer. Most are lost to the life he can't go back to with Dorian, but... well. That's not something he really wants to think or talk about right now, so he'll finish off his glass and pour himself another as he listens.
His eyes widen at the mention of the famous composer. "Beethoven?" He lets out a low whistle of approval. "That's a real treasure. I've a lot of books from over the years, but I never asked or tried for musical pieces. Anything I might know that you have a personally penned copy of? I'm not asking to see it, mind, but I am curious as to what he shared."
no subject
The conversation is treading into dangerous ground for the angel, where emotions would run high and outbursts were likely. For the moment he contentedly sat drinking and keeping the topics at an arms distance from his feelings. "What I possess has been given freely as gifts."
The question about his possessions gives the angel pause and reason to cast an analytical gaze on the vampire long before speaking. "The Moonlight Sonata, written for a woman, a student of his, who loved him and was fair skinned. They say she had the voice and grace of an angel."
Lucifer was certainly implying what it sounded like. There were occasions when he walked among humans for reasons of his own, or sometimes because his heart would have nothing else. The arrogant, wild musician had always felt, to the angel, as if he were watching some part of himself, primal and uncontrolled, create on its own. "I have a few pieces of drafts from the 5th and 9th symphonies when the pieces eluded him and spurned his anger to throw vials of ink on the books."
The fondness is there, and a cadence to Lucifer's speech. He wasn't speaking of events he had read of, or seen off hand but things he had been involved in and remembered more than one dress ruined to a tantrum written in ink. "The 9th he insisted I have his finished draft for his undue harassment of my voice and person."
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He grins around a sip of his drink as Lucifer tells the story of Moonlight Sonata. That's a very thinly veiled story and exactly the kind of thing he loves to know. He's going to hold onto that tidbit now, thanks.
"He gave it to you as his penance?" That's surprising. Being given something like that is unusual even for those with extremely long lives. For an artist to give away something so precious requires a hell of a strong will, one that many don't have. Toby's eyebrows rise briefly as he refreshes his drink and then he tips his drink in Lucifer's direction. "It turned out beautifully. I've enjoyed it many times over the years, in person from time to time and everything. Didn't make it to its debut, though. Bit too far for me to travel back then."
no subject
"Perhaps." Lucifer smirked "I have always believed it a gift for taunting a woman his equal in ego and musical ability."
"He was a capricious teacher." Lucifer's tone turns nostalgic as he goes on, finishing his drink and pouring another. " It will never sound the same again, as it did in practice with the maestro on viola and an angel singing. The soprano is never as high as it was intended to be."