The Angel Balthazar (
tryingitall) wrote in
kore_logs2013-03-25 08:01 pm
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Entry tags:
can't seem to find our state of grace
Who: Balthazar and OPEN
What: Exploring and chatting.
When: Day 54
Where: All over the place, but eventually the bar and House 11. Encounter him anywhere you like.
Warnings: Probably none, will update if that changes.
Balthazar's not sure whether to be optimistic about this brave new world or not. There's no question but that certain individuals here are a threat. Raphael and Lucifer? Scary. Whatever's got them all trapped here? Also scary. At the moment, though, the weather is fairly pleasant, there's no looming apocalypse, planned or otherwise, and even the demons here seem to be, if not civil, at least tolerable.
Probably the other shoe will drop before long, but until then he's going to try to enjoy himself.
Hence the search for the bar he hears is around somewhere. He circles through streets, looking over houses, buildings, and...hmm. Rubble. That's a little worrisome. But not too far off he finds what he was looking for, and slips curiously through the doors.
What: Exploring and chatting.
When: Day 54
Where: All over the place, but eventually the bar and House 11. Encounter him anywhere you like.
Warnings: Probably none, will update if that changes.
Balthazar's not sure whether to be optimistic about this brave new world or not. There's no question but that certain individuals here are a threat. Raphael and Lucifer? Scary. Whatever's got them all trapped here? Also scary. At the moment, though, the weather is fairly pleasant, there's no looming apocalypse, planned or otherwise, and even the demons here seem to be, if not civil, at least tolerable.
Probably the other shoe will drop before long, but until then he's going to try to enjoy himself.
Hence the search for the bar he hears is around somewhere. He circles through streets, looking over houses, buildings, and...hmm. Rubble. That's a little worrisome. But not too far off he finds what he was looking for, and slips curiously through the doors.
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Or should that have been the other way around... whatever. He takes the horn and tilts his chair back on two legs, tweaking gravity just enough so as not to fall backwards.
"It's chocolate. Which, if I'm eating something, is a pretty safe assumption to make. You drink to anything in particular these days?"
Good health wasn't really applicable in their case, after all, and a lot of toasts were either irrelevant to them or so relevant that mentioning them would kill the mood... not that he was accustomed to drinking with angels.
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"I didn't know you were a chocoholic, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He frowns briefly, thinking it over. "Not usually. I could be overly precious and drink to reuniting with family, I suppose. Ah, but that reminds me: Anna says you're going by Loki in public, for the most part. True?"
He doesn't care to be responsible for blowing Gabriel's cover. It must be difficult having such a high name-recognition factor to contend with.
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So long as they can pick something to drink to and get on with it, he's not bothered. Besides, being with the family again is his favourite part of being here by far, even if he'd be disinclined to say so.
"I'm going by a few things. Loki's the main one. If you wouldn't mind calling me that over the network et cetera, I'd be much obliged. Don't really wanna out myself just yet."
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"Loki it is, then. With as many of us as there are around, I'm not sure how long your cover will last, but then again you're better at it than anyone else I've ever known. Better than I was."
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"It lasted me a good few centuries back home, but I guess I didn't have a load of angels cramping my style then." Not that he's complaining-- well, he is, sort of, but he doesn't mean it. Not really. "When did you try the secret identity thing? Can't say it rings a bell."
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Oh. Oh, he didn't realize Gabriel hadn't heard these details yet. Perhaps he'd been cagier when he was here before. Or preoccupied. He shrugs and looks around the room in an attempt to cover up lingering guilt. "When I heard Raphael had killed Cas, I jumped ship. Faked my death first. You have to understand...so many of us were leaving, dying, being punished. I couldn't picture Heaven lasting the Apocalypse."
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"Hey - I can't exactly throw stones on that one, kid. Trust me, I get it." The story of Balthazar leaving isn't entirely news to him, but it's the first time he's heard it in as much detail, in any kind of linear order. The last time Balthazar was here, he'd only mentioned it in offhand comments, no context, really. He hadn't pushed - he knows as well as anyone that it tends to be a touchy subject. "And, if I remember correctly, you took half of Heaven's arsenal with you. Good idea. Didn't know you spent long hiding out, though-- please don't tell me you went for the pagans too, they're fun and all but not exactly fans of the God Squad."
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He didn't immerse himself as fully as Anna had, of course, and can't help wondering, now, what that would have been like. But you can't steal an arsenal and rip out your Grace. That's overkill. "It was fun while it lasted, actually."
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In hindsight, he should have taken some of Heaven's more twisted weapons with him when he'd left. Could've saved a little bloodshed, but he'd been concerned enough with just getting himself out unnoticed, let alone trying to sneak out with the restricted section of the armoury smuggled under his shirt. He's actually quite proud of Balthazar for managing it, not to mention for thinking of it in the first place.
"The humans are generally less bloodthirsty. Pretty fun, too, if you pick the right ones. How'd that work out? 'While it lasted', uh, doesn't exactly imply happily ever after."
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"Well..." he nibbles the poptart to buy time to gather thoughts and recover from the moment. "It was fun, actually. Lots of parties. Sex, drugs, rocknroll. Less of rocknroll than the other two, really. I set up a gallery, for something to do."
"Unfortunately, Castiel found me after a year or two of it. Spoilsport." He's very fond of Cas, and always will be, but there are some mixed feelings there just now.
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Admittedly for Gabriel at least it would be easier to just snap partners up out of nowhere, but the chase was half the fun, right? Well - a quarter of the fun, if he wasn't feeling lazy, and real people had the personality factor that fake people didn't.
"Yeah, I'm fairly sure Castiel's just allergic to fun. Including other people's, the little git."
Said without any real venom, of course. He's definitely not entitled to any bitterness, given that the 'fun' of his Castiel was opposed to involved beating up Castiel and his friends.
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No rush, though, especially since he's not sure how things may go down if/when he does get home. "Castiel...has exactly the sense of duty angels are purportedly supposed to have. Sadly." He gives a lopsided, humorless smile. "Are you aware of what's been going on, Post-Apocalypse, in your absence?"
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He's kidding, though with Gabriel it can be hard to tell. At least as far as sex talk goes, he's pretty hard to embarrass. Feelings talk, well, that does tend to do the trick, but a little sincerity here and there is usually necessary. Not that he's exactly rushing to get to it.
"A little. You'd think stopping the Apocalypse'd lighten things up a little, but no, apparently it's all downhill from there. Go figure. Haven't exactly had a full run-down of events, but from what little I've been told, sounds like Castiel's sense of duty woulda come in handy with all that chaos."
After all, Castiel had said that things were his fault, but honestly Gabriel had taken that as a guilt complex or a compulsive need to blame himself for not doing enough to stop it. The possibility that all the crap that had gone on was actually Castiel's fault... well, that hadn't really occurred to him.
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But the rest of the conversation seems to be more important, so he refocuses obligingly. "I'm not sure about that, actually. I wish you...nevermind." Whether Gabriel could have or would have stopped the mess Castiel got into is something Balthazar doesn't know, and it's probably better not to ask.
"Raphael wanted to bust Michael and Lucifer back out of the Cage and reset the Apocalypse. Castiel must have developed a bit of a crush on his humans; he was opposed to the idea. Naturally, an ordinary angel has about a snowball's chance in hell of standing up to an archangel."
"I don't know how it ended up. Or will end up. Except the end result is sure to be more bloodshed. Do you really want to hear?"
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He should be having a stronger reaction, but he's cheating really: Castiel's already told him more or less everything Balthazar's said. And a little more besides.
"Cas mentioned Leviathans and Purgatory, so yeah, I'm thinking bloodshed and chaos and anarchy and general destruction are a plausible scenario. You got anything more specific to add?"
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He sets the remainder of his poptart down unhappily. "And I was convinced he would blow himself up that way. But if he's ahead of me in time and says he's gone through with it..."
Put together with Meg's information from earlier, this is sounding worse and worse.
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He takes a swig from his meadhorn, and apparently forgets to stop swigging, because he doesn't lower it until long after a human would've needed to pause for breath. The state of Heaven, and Earth for that matter, is sounding bad enough to him that he's almost glad he's dead.
"Someone'll fix it all up. Someone always does." He doesn't say it with much conviction, but he expects that sooner or later Raphael will sweep up the mess. Probably later, actually. "And for as long as you're stuck here, it won't have to be you. Lucky, huh?"
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So there's no reason not to take very long drink, and he does so. "I was hoping to prevent the mess," he says when he stops. "I hate clean-up duty. Do you think we ever can go back where we left off?"
There's no reason even Gabriel should have this answer, of course, but it's a testament to Balthazar's lingering respect for authority that he thinks to ask.
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"I think it's possible. Raphael got dragged here after Lucy did, and he remembers him getting shoved back in the basement - but Lucifer's from before that happens. So unless he's got a doppelganger he must go back, plus him being here can't have changed the timeline too much. So yeah. I think so."
Although that explanation doesn't make as much sense to him now that he's put it into words. Maybe if he were to drink more it'd make more sense. He tries it - it doesn't help.
"Course, personally I'd rather not have to. Unless it gets a billion times more boring here, it's still better than going back - so here's hoping it's a multiple choice thing, huh?"
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Especially if he has to live through watching Castiel swallow up Purgatory and vomit it back out. The possibility that he might not live to see this, hasn't even occurred yet, or at least he hasn't acknowledged it to himself.
"So, tell me what you've been up to to stave off the boredom, other than propositioning the entire network?"
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"Bit of this, bit of that. Meaningless sex with fewer of the town's residents than I'd like, but hey, community as small as this, that's probably for the best. Eating ice cream, pretending to sleep... aggravating people, that's always fun. We've got some good hotheads here, real easy to get under their skin."
Though not necessarily a great idea, but since when has Gabriel been sensible?
"Probably ought to spend more time with the family. Organise a picnic, maybe. Sunday dinner?"
An even worse idea, and he knows it. 'Ought to' is not the right phrase, and he knows full well that if he did try to organise a familial bonding session it'd go to shit in a matter of minutes, but it feels so stupid to him to have so many of his brothers here after being apart for so long and to barely even talk to them. He laughs, passing it off as a joke.
"Or a chainsaw massacre. No, I haven't been doing much. How 'bout you, planning to join one of these after school clubs? I'm sure you'd make a brilliant farmer. You could start your own vineyard."
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He picks up the poptart he's set down and resumes working on it. It's not going to be his new favorite dish, but it's a welcome distraction. "It would be easier to connect with family if so many of us weren't at each others' throats," he murmurs cautiously. "But evidently you've got Anna, and now I'm around. We could do a board game night."
"I was thinking of the clubs, actually." He finishes the last of his mead, but holds onto the drinking horn, running his thumb along the surface idly. "I might actually do that. It might be enjoyable, making things grow instead of cutting them down. I'm not clear on where we're meant to get seeds, though."
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Although the idea of Raphael and Castiel bickering over hotel prices and the intricacies of the rules is sufficiently amusing to be almost tempting, and he can just imagine Lucifer's face if he got sent to jail. He's not sure the entertainment factor would outweigh the bloodshed, but so long as it stays inside his head it's easy enough just to laugh at it.
"Planning on doing good, honest work for the benefit of the community then. Tsk. Castiel's such a bad influence - you'll ruin the family name, carrying on like that." He waves his hand idly; his drinking horn disappears. "There was a supply drop a while ago - weapons, food, that sorta thing. Wouldn't be surprised if there'd been some seeds too, if there weren't any in this place already."
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He regards the archangel curiously. "It's easy for you to make fun. You create things all the time. I've never had that talent. I'm envious."
Growing some nice plants isn't the same as shaping worlds out of thin air, but it's something.
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He catches the look Balthazar's giving him, but ignores it - he's pretty sure he ought to be helping out with any and/or all of the 'clubs', or at least just with food supplies, but he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. He's happy with his relative anonymity, both with their fellow residents and their captors.
"I guess so. Never really thought of it as one of our specialties, though - creation's fun and all, but we were always better at destruction." It's not true, really. Raphael and Gabriel in particular hadn't been cut out for soldiering - at least, not originally. Destruction hadn't come naturally, but practice makes perfect. "Still, makes a neat little party trick, doesn't it? We should do kids' birthdays or something."
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