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Belial had many duties in the middle of a war but with Raguel now firmly in the enclave of Fallen, even if he was a raging terror, things were calmer. Heaven was in turmoil and Lucifer had less angels harassing his every movement. The Chancellor now had time to breathe and enjoy what the Nexus had to offer. He's not a social angel by nature but one of the wild lands and the silence.
It finds him far out into the park system that runs in and around the Plaza and the birds came. Black birds like the one who graced his shoulder. Crows, ravens, vultures and some that existed only in the Nexus or had flown in from some other creation that was not Belial's own. To all of them he whispered in their lost tongue, the language of birds from the beginnings, from their first voice with the angel who then still bore sight.
Belial's eyes were now stark white against his black hair and wings, glowing faint like moonlight in the depth of darkness. His wings black as that night sky, oily charcoal that seems to devour the light around the edges. Despite his alignment with diplomacy he is an intimidating angels; muscular with black face paint across the upper half of his face causing his eyes to look even more eerie. He wears all black, shroud like cloth around his body that is formless in his seated position.
It is the black hawk on his shoulder that turns to listen to the approaching being first. Nychta was fashioned of the soot and heat of Chaos, the realm of the fallen, and he was the angel's eyes. Soon the other birds were looking curiously and the angel fell silent. He did not look but his head rolled slightly, eyes turning blankly toward the sky as he listened and feathers rustling as he quieted to sense the being that had the attention of his avian entourage. Anyone sensitive to telepathy would feel it from the angel, as if the whole world was being scanned, more like radar giving a lay of the land than an invasion of mind or privacy. Every bird around him has fallen to complete silence, waiting for the voice of the angel.
It finds him far out into the park system that runs in and around the Plaza and the birds came. Black birds like the one who graced his shoulder. Crows, ravens, vultures and some that existed only in the Nexus or had flown in from some other creation that was not Belial's own. To all of them he whispered in their lost tongue, the language of birds from the beginnings, from their first voice with the angel who then still bore sight.
Belial's eyes were now stark white against his black hair and wings, glowing faint like moonlight in the depth of darkness. His wings black as that night sky, oily charcoal that seems to devour the light around the edges. Despite his alignment with diplomacy he is an intimidating angels; muscular with black face paint across the upper half of his face causing his eyes to look even more eerie. He wears all black, shroud like cloth around his body that is formless in his seated position.
It is the black hawk on his shoulder that turns to listen to the approaching being first. Nychta was fashioned of the soot and heat of Chaos, the realm of the fallen, and he was the angel's eyes. Soon the other birds were looking curiously and the angel fell silent. He did not look but his head rolled slightly, eyes turning blankly toward the sky as he listened and feathers rustling as he quieted to sense the being that had the attention of his avian entourage. Anyone sensitive to telepathy would feel it from the angel, as if the whole world was being scanned, more like radar giving a lay of the land than an invasion of mind or privacy. Every bird around him has fallen to complete silence, waiting for the voice of the angel.
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Date: 2021-06-11 04:38 pm (UTC)From:"Carrion eaters are not meant for eating." Belial knew the distaste and disease that many found trying to eat vultures. Desperation could easily drive someone past common sense.
"Are you starving?" He asks, eventually, with curiosity. He may be one of the more aloof angels but the fact remains that they were all created to assist, in some way or another, other forms of life. Food would be easy enough to provide.
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Date: 2021-06-11 05:07 pm (UTC)From:"I'm always hungry. And thirsty," he admits. "Sometimes it hurts, so I eat what moves. Or doesn't move fast enough." He would have taken some of his catch to the Waystation, but that seems irrelevant now.
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Date: 2021-06-13 01:12 pm (UTC)From:"Is it a curse or nature that forces you to live as Tantalus?" Belial is slowly becoming more and more curious about the being that had come out of the brush and trees.
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Date: 2021-06-13 01:22 pm (UTC)From:"Both, I s'pose. I'm only dust, but also a vessel of destruction for betrayed worlds. I feel what a dying planet feels, and what everything I'm cursed to destroy feels. Famine, and collapse of the food chain means hunger. Drought means thirst. All the pains you could imagine and then some. Eating helps ease all of 'em."