For ABLACKSUN

[hellsadvisor]

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.

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[ablacksun]

Having been told by more than one person that in the Wilds there are things that can hurt him, or even eat him, Zack has kept to the park system, venturing out a little further each time. Good luck to whatever tries to eat him, he often thinks, it'll be like swallowing a barrel of sand - without the barrel. But then it probably feels horrible to be eaten, so the apocalyptic spirit has decided that caution is probably better than apathy. Something to eat is always high on the list of daily activities. Dean feeds him, of course, on really good stuff like burgers and popsicles, but Zack is always happy to eat whatever crosses his path. Times may always get hard again, it pays not to lose the taste for some of the more unsavoury meals.

He's creeping through the bushes and shrubbery when he notices many of the birds are all beginning to flock in one direction. Being attuned to nature, Zack is aware that they often come together, and this is a good opportunity for a meal. Or, if he can catch a few, he can take a brace of them to Furiosa at the Waystation. He creeps closer and closer until he sees a figure amongst all the flapping wings. It's impressive and Zack feels quite drawn in. When he gets close enough to see the figure's eyes, it strikes a chord. His own eyes turn white when Aisaak is ascendant. It's for this reason that he doesn't automatically assume that the stranger can't see. It also makes him fascinating. Half of Zack's attention is still focussing on an opportunity to capture a bird, but as the entire gathering becomes quieter and more still, he begins to abandon that idea. The birds are obviously drawn to the figure, and he's surprised to see some that he's sure he's never seen in the Nexus yet. Not that he's explored it fully.

Perhaps the being will be pissed off if Zack attempts to kill its companions. Better not then.

He has no telepathic ability, apart from being able to tell if somebody is mortal or not... and he's not even sure that's true telepathy. This being is no mere mortal. That's a certainty. As everything falls into silence, it occurs to Zack that it might mean he's been detected.

A little awkwardly, and reluctantly, he eventually steps out from the cover of the bushes. For those who can see such things, he's made entirely of dust, bound together supernaturally and almost artificially by the hand of a god of hell. He also carries an invisible mantle of destruction and suffering. His own, and those he's called upon to destroy.

“Are you talking to them?” he asks, transfixed. He might be able to call creatures forth in swarms, but he can't exactly speak with them.