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tryingitallBalthazar's vessel was an artist. Not a famous one, certainly not a wealthy one, but one of those sorts who cannot help but do what he does. Every now and again, he searches the Nexus' galleries and museums on the off-chance there is some world where the man succeeded and earned the recognition the angel feels he was due.
The human soul is within him, still, sleeping, waiting for a well-earned Heavenly reward. He'd wake it up to see if he found his work somewhere.
No such luck today, but the angel has found a sculpture he admires and bought it for one of his safehouses back in his own world. It will be shipped later in the week, and for now he's taking a break, sipping a margarita on the patio of a Tex-Mex restaurant that bears the sign 'Nacho Mama's' in bright pink neon.
He's not interested in the food, but a really good margarita is nothing to be missed. This is his third, and the staff is starting to look deeply concerned by the volume of tequila he has consumed this afternoon.
"It's all right," he tells the waitress as she comes by to check on him, and there is no hint he's even tipsy. "I'm just very fond of lime."
"You, um, must have a high tolerance," she says. "The bartender keeps asking me if he should cut you off."
"Oh, I see. Tell him I could clear out every bit of liquor in the place and still keep my feet. It takes real work to get an angel drunk."
"That explains it," she says weakly, and leaves him be, although it really doesn't explain it, because since when do angels get drunk??
The Nexus is rough on people, ontologically.
The human soul is within him, still, sleeping, waiting for a well-earned Heavenly reward. He'd wake it up to see if he found his work somewhere.
No such luck today, but the angel has found a sculpture he admires and bought it for one of his safehouses back in his own world. It will be shipped later in the week, and for now he's taking a break, sipping a margarita on the patio of a Tex-Mex restaurant that bears the sign 'Nacho Mama's' in bright pink neon.
He's not interested in the food, but a really good margarita is nothing to be missed. This is his third, and the staff is starting to look deeply concerned by the volume of tequila he has consumed this afternoon.
"It's all right," he tells the waitress as she comes by to check on him, and there is no hint he's even tipsy. "I'm just very fond of lime."
"You, um, must have a high tolerance," she says. "The bartender keeps asking me if he should cut you off."
"Oh, I see. Tell him I could clear out every bit of liquor in the place and still keep my feet. It takes real work to get an angel drunk."
"That explains it," she says weakly, and leaves him be, although it really doesn't explain it, because since when do angels get drunk??
The Nexus is rough on people, ontologically.
no subject
Date: 2019-07-28 02:20 am (UTC)I sometimes think about all the times I just moved... just ran... because I didn't know what else to do.
And I just don't feel like running anymore.
[Peter stands, and slowly strips down, comfortable in the presence of Balthazar not to worry about his nudity. And slowly sinks into the bath] I am glad we are friends. It means a lot to me.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-09 11:51 am (UTC)[Having never been human, he can't be completely certain, but angels always have referred to God as their Father, and Balthazar sure hasn't ever seen Him.
He listens attentively to what Peter has to say, for a moment every bit the sympathetic listening figure one might expect an angel to be. He pats Peter's hair gently, ruffling it and nodding. He shows no particular reaction to his nudity; this is a platonic, comforting context and there's no need to bring sexuality into it. He's ready to help him climb into the water, though, gentle and supportive.]
It's good for me, too. Having friends.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-09 02:05 pm (UTC)Yah. Well, I love you man. [Said in that bro-friendship way, but with meaning]
no subject
Date: 2019-08-09 03:16 pm (UTC)Once Peter is settled, he pats his hair once more and then picks up his discarded clothing, shaking out each piece one at a time, and this, the human might notice: he folds and puts each item back down on the edge of the sink and they look clean and mended as if new.
Balthazar blinks at the endearment, visibly surprised to hear it any context, then grins like a sunbeam. Look, not a lot of people say that kind of thing to an angel.]
Right back at you, darling!
no subject
Date: 2019-08-09 03:20 pm (UTC)