baal

Abaddon was late, she knew that. Unless it was Lucifer she was meeting, of course; in that case, she would be hours early, if she must. Lucifer had chosen her and Abaddon was not going to give him a reason to doubt his decision, ever. Any other person, including the Princes, didn’t have her undying loyalty — not until they proved their worth. 

Still, Baal was one of the Princes that she actually enjoyed being around; Abaddon was not a team player — she was a general, she gave orders and she did what she had to do. Even then, she still found herself going to a bar to enjoy a little time with Baal, a little arm candy (and perhaps real candy later on) walking by her side as she made her way towards Baal. 

“Sorry, I’m late. Turns out humans have a little more fight in them than they had a few years ago and I had to kill a few before hitting the jackpot.” The Knight of Hell said before she pushed the human towards Baal, giving them a look that said sit or die. 

“Hope you didn’t start without me.”

Baal fixes her with his sharpest gaze as she approaches him, human toy in toe. He doesn’t do her the honour of looking affected by it, regards them both with a cool arch of his brow, a slight tilt of her head as she says her part. 

With cool detachment he moves a foot. Shoves out her chair. He eyes the man then with cool regard. “Hm. Not sure I’d call him a jackpot. But I can’t speak for your standards.” A smile, slow. “You sit. He can kneel until we’re done with our chat.” 

His eyes flick to the floor, waiting, expectant. “It wouldn’t do,” he says to Abaddon, “to let them think that they’re our equals. Once they get those pesky ideas in their head, its so hard to root them out again.” 

Once upon a time, an angel had watched over a boy, had seen him cry and had wanted to do something about it. A gift: an inconsequential bauble, a small glass orb with colors swirling around inside. Something pretty, for a pretty thing. Once upon a time, an angel too human-like, too compassionate, becomes obsessed with the feeling of fulfilling, sees a crying face turn upwards in a smile and becomes obsessed with doing it again and again until baubles turn to jewels and silks and ornamental daggers.

Coming to Baal, here in the Citadel, it doesn’t feel that much different. 

He’s changed. They both have. Azazel is a burned out shell of what they were those many thousand years ago, and Baal is an eternal echo of the sin in which he lived his life after. But somehow the space between them never changes, the trace memory of those first encounters never fully disappears.

They toss the skull onto the floor between them, and it rolls to a stop at Baal’s feet, the ghost of lips falling at the demon’s heels. They don’t remember where they got it, anymore, or when, or why there are little sigils carved delicately across the thin bone, or where half of the teeth’ve gotten to, but it’s pretty nonetheless. 

     “Don’t I always?”

His gaze flickers down to the object, rolling. It stops in front of polished shoes, and he tips it gently with the toe to get a better look. Something vicious and happy unfurls in his stomach. Greedy, grateful, complicated. He should hate Azazel for this –– for inspiring true feeling when Baal should be a cool and collected Prince. 

Baal hasn’t cared for much other than power and how to get more of it since long before he died. An angel gifted him glory and then horror, disappeared and left a poor boy to fend for himself. A boy in precious gems and soft silks, gold rings and ornate baubles. He tilts his head at the skull. When Azazel had left him, all those years ago, he’d had to sell so many gifts to survive. Each forced parting cracking something inside of him, leaving him bereft and worthless, a young man in the dirt. 

He got it all back, in the end. He made himself strong and did it without the help of anybody else. He studied magic, practiced rituals, raised the dead. He killed people, lied, stole, conquered. Now thats all you are, a part of him thinks. He pushes it away, back down into its grave. With deft fingers he plucks this latest gift from the soft carpet of his quarters. They run soft over the surface, the delicate carvings. 

He loves it, fiercely. He wants more like it. An entire collection. Gold plated. He wants to find a pedestal for it. Wants to use it in a dark ritual. Wants to make Azazel bring him gifts until its a dragons hoard. Theres a possessive thrill at this –– being the person Azazel keeps coming back to with trinkets of affection. 

     “You know, this may be my favourite yet.” It’s almost soft. He nods his head, Keeps it cradled in his palm. “You can sit, if you wish.” 

His quarters in The Citadel are smaller than his kingdom was. Hell, an endless expanse. His area of governance ever growing. But he may love it more, even for its paltry size. 

It’s everything he always wanted, is the thing. When he was a human and he hungered for decadence, for opulence, to be more than a starving worker boy. Lucifer is a generous God who longs to put smiles on his Princes faces, and Baal has taken advantage of this. 

He stands, looking out the large windows, the orange-red sunset streaming in past the heavy velvet of the curtains. Its a moment of weakness. The world leaving him raw and open, reminding him of things long gone. 

Azazel must sense the pull of the past, it can be the only explanation. Baal can feel their presence before it’s announced, though he does not turn to look. It adds more to the melancholy of remembrance. When Azazel had wings, they always found Baal during Baal’s worst days, plying smiles out of them with gift after shining gift. Childish glee inspired by all of it. 

He hasn’t said these words in a few thousand years at least. Saves them, for moments when they are pulled out almost against his own will. Voice slow, cloyingly sweet. 

     “Have you brought me something pretty?” 

The table at the back of the room is quiet, Baal comfortable in his chair. This is where he likes to be, watching. He can see everyone in the room from here. Petty humans who think they’re subtle when they gaze at him out of the corner of their eyes. 

They can tell he’s so much more than them. He radiates power. Drips with it. His sleeve is flecked with blood. He didn’t spill it, he hardly ever does. But he’d stayed standing close after compelling a lower ranked demon to do the deed for him. A new favourite pass-time. 

All said and done, he’s growing impatient. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, even by Abaddon. They may have much in common, and much to do together, but the demon was still lower than he and should show the appropriate respect. He’ll let it pass, this time, provided they make their appearance soon. Knowing Abaddon, they’ll come armed with a fantastic story. Whatever manipulative ploys they’re carrying out for fun are sure to be entertaining. 

“Oh Baal, you really know how to cut a man down.” More of the sarcasm he’s discovered he just loves so much. “He might be watching out for me still, ooh maybe he’s got some plan for me…Fuck Michael I was the favorite you know?” Oh please, he’s more likely equated to the annoying youngest child than anything. He did as he was told back then, was impossible to do anything but. He wasn’t the perfect creation like Michael or any of the other Archangels however.

He doesn’t think of himself as better than the demons…okay that was a lie. They were creatures borne of sin and darkness and while Gadreel wasn’t exactly pure anymore he was still….something more. He had once had a purpose, as dull as it was. They were nothing, to nothing they will return one day. While he will always have some part of him that has, or had a higher calling. He had whispered doubt into the ears of man and woman, watched as his ideas incubated and spread. The world state as is right now was, in part, his own creation. He shaped the lives of millions. Not many, if any, demons can claim that.

“Mhm, call him Daddy again, that was hilarious.” There was just something so good about calling, their father who art in heaven and all of that; Daddy.

“Its a skill I take pride in.” Voice dripping with sarcasm, blithely unconcerned with the fact that Gadreel could easily be fucking with him. Baal wants to roll his eyes again at the words coming out of this angels mouth. Of course, of course. Gadreel sounds like a spoiled, if a little unhinged, child. He wonders if its part of the act, now. Or if its genuine. 

A soft breath escaping human lungs. Baal is still getting used to this –– this body. A pleasing form, one hes taking joy in. A pretty thing. Baal has always loved to be a pretty thing. Like way way back in the day when Azazel still had wings and Baal would press him for gift after gift. 

“I’m not here to humour your daddy kink, Gadreel.” He says it with a smile, slow and sharp. “But I’m sure there are places in this city you could go if you did want that.” Delight creeping into his voice. “Humans. So dirty. So creative.”

A step closer, he leans against the fence his companion is half way up. Head tilted up to view them. “Or is that not the kind of fun you’re hunting for?”

                                already hours of thought had gone into formulating a plan to achieve this goal.  already was a potential trap set , yet lucifer wanted to be sure.  this was the apocalypse & the devil now walked the earth.  god was gone , but his warriors were not.  he had only one chance for his plan to succeed , or else it was death for him , his princes , his knights , & his thousands of demons.  

                                so , he sought the opinion of his princes.  he was smart , an analytical thinker , but he’d be a fool if he did not get the input.  so , he’d sought out baal.  his first prince had since proven over their lifetime that they were the one to go to for solutions.  and his suggestions , reassured lucifer in his budding idea. 

                                “  & two links make the chain even weaker , “  lucifer replied.  the angel with a soft heart was obvious , but there was another still loyal to god that lucifer thought would work well for this plan.  a human , yes , but a powerful influence among the angels.  & lucifer currently had him within his grasp.

a curious tilt of his head, a calculating glance. the gears are turning in lucifer’s head and it sets a slick excitement alive inside of baal. this is what he loves. the planning, the power, seeing the future unfold before them and feeling sure that they will reign victorious at the end of the day. he wants to keep the slick feeling going. wants to find a human to play with, pull pleasure from. or to find azazel and watch while they beat someone bloody just for baals amusement. 

but planning must come first, always. he leans himself against a wall, languid and relaxed. “sounds like you have a target in mind already.” he muses,  a smile slipping into place. lucifer always gets the most genuine of his grins, every feeling open and honest. “not that i’m surprised, now that you mention it.” an amsued shake of his head. “angels. humans. they get so shakey when when daddy tries to put them in the naughty corner. so vulnerable.” there’s a glee to his voice at the thought of it. 

“you’ll tell me, won’t you?” a slight lean forward, another smile. “who you’re thinking of? which poor unfortunate soul? c’mon. you know i love it when you talk strategy.” 

Status: Open     

Location: New Zion

 Gadreel wants to believe that this day won’t be a complete waste. He’d talked himself into going out, blending in without having the shadows to play safe in. He’d always loved to play cat and mouse, but without any object to fixate on, he felt less like the hunter and more like rabid dog locked away. Snarling at the lock but not knowing how to break it. He could honestly vibrate of his skin right now he was chomping so hard at the bit.

      He hadn’t been told to be good, then again would he have even listened if he was? But it feels hard to be anything but when there just doesn’t seem to be anything to do. With a personality like his he didn’t have any friends to call on and really in this climate were there such a thing as friends anyway? He would say allies but then again he hates the commitment that even that term brings.

      There seems to be plenty for everyone else to do, he sees them buzzing like bees from location to location. Eyes averted from everyone around them, shoulders slumped down with all the unease they carry. This boredom is dangerous, and Gad wouldn’t say bad things happened when he had nothing to do but certainly nothing good ever came of it.

       You’ll find him right now half way up a chain link fence, the ‘No Trespassing” signs bright red and large but what are they going to do, shoot him? He’s dealt with worse in his short time on Earth. He stops mid climb, head whipping back the second he hears footsteps. He’s no real actor, not yet, but he relies on the boyish charm of this vessel to get him far.

     “Uhh…you’re not gonna try and ground me are you? Though something tells me my father would like that.”

Sometimes, Baal feels as if he’s the only smart person in all the ranks of hell. He’s spent millenia now rolling his eyes at the antics of those around him. Such silly creatures, some of his demonic brethren can be. Such uncontrolled, base creatures.  

He tends to expect more when it comes to the fallen. He’d known them, after all, before he defended into hell himself. He walked the earth, living and breathing, while the watchers planted seeds of corruption. Azazel and Gadreel, angelic beings on the brink, waiting to tip over the edge of an unseen precipice. But it means he understands more than most what the fall can do, how it can change them. 

He watches with cool amusement as Gadreel goes about his business, watches him scurry up a fence and stop half way. He pops his gum –– spearmint, a whimsical choice –– and lets his footsteps fall heavier, fixing Gadreel with a wry smile when the other turns to look down at him. 

     “Awh, sorry Gad. I don’t think your daddy particularly cares about you anymore. Or anyone, for that matter.” A tilt of his head, curious, calculating. “What exactly are you doing up there? You look like an idiot.” 

❝ i’ve been waiting here for you for a time. ❞

                              & lucifer knows that they would have continued waiting should he have taken longer.  but as he steps up beside the prince , he gives a nod as his arms cross & his vessels light eyes survey the surroundings.  the world is in ruin & lucifer finds he enjoys the sight he sees.  his demons prowling , humans cowering.  & the few angels on earth keep to their holy structures.  the later worries lucifer the most , however.  “  we need to find a way to draw the angels out , “   he speaks , voice gruff.  “  or weaken them from the inside.  “  god may be gone , but they are still his fierce warriors.  his own forces could not take them on with mere strength.  hundreds of his demons would die in the process.  & despite what many may believe , lucifer cared about the lives of those that follow him.  he’d already had thoughts on this topic , but called for baal’s opinion.  lucifer knew they would have an idea his princes hadn’t thought of yet.

meme:  bastille “vs.” lyric starters. status:  accepting. asker:  @baalx​.

standing in the light of the morningstar is a heady experience. it always has been, since the first moment baal did it. he grew accustomed to it over time, of course. lucifer was his now. his leader. his commander. something like the only steady thing in the universe, a cosmic axis of power. baal loves him. does it powerfully, selfishly, overwhelmingly. but does it with familiarity now, after so many millennia of acquaintance. 

oh lucifer, he thinks, always straight down to business. on other days he might have teased about it. draped around him and said what? no hello for your favourite prince? but he gets the impression that now is a time for serious matters. he cocks his head, expression curious. angels did pose quite the threat, so full of divine light. 

     “we can accomplish both, with enough time and the right plan.” and he loved this. thinking, planning, working to take other people down. angels were powerful, yes. but they were beings of god, and such beings are always flawed. from what baal could gather, their presence on earth confirmed that they held weakness in them just as humans did. they too were prone to sin and overwhelming attachments. “a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. i’m sure if we find the right angel, one with a soft heart, we could do a great deal of damage.”