The Infernal Serpent

It's a strain to think of things the way Azazael is describing them. Balthazar frowns a little, Grace churning slowly, thoughtfully, with the same slow rhythm he uses to stir the cocoa heating in the pot. Perhaps it's a bit like being accepted into a new garrison, which was a rare thing to see in his own world but an easier metaphor for him to grasp. Usually it would only happen if the angel's old garrison was destroyed in a battle...which would leave an experienced survivor to be adopted and placed where they could do the most good.

In that light it makes a little more sense. Lucifer, the king of Chaos, wouldn't be expected to bring in just some random, decorative creature from another Heaven. Really, Balthazar's only moderately decorative, anyway. What Lucifer sees in him, he assumes, is not rote usefulness, but something harder to quantify and more sentimental, but whether his court would be able to recognize that or not--

Good lord, are they going to think he's some sort of wild maverick celestial badass? A little voice in the back of his head whispers, would they be wrong, though?, because he did steal half of the armory and blow up the rest when he left, so maybe he underestimates himself a little.

"I think I'm starting to understand," he says. "It might be best to hold onto the illusion of formality for a while, after all. Not with you, at least not in private. But better that than for them to think I'm just arm candy."

"The thing that throws me is that what I want, what I've always wanted, was for us all to be family. Angels always called one another brother and sister where I come from, but very few of us acted like it. Humans get to have so much more of that. Friends, family, lovers, and all sorts of things in-between. Are we not designed to love like that? If not, why do I feel the lack of it?" He gets out three mugs, filling each slowly to the brim, and drawing a circle around one with his fingertip, casting a quick spell to keep it hot for whenever Lucifer wakes.

He brings one of the others over to set beside Azazael. "Do you want regular marshmallows or strawberry-flavored?"

"Our Father just left us," Balthazar answers. "And some people blame that on his argument with our version of Lucifer and the fall of mankind, but--I don't think it's that simple any longer. I think we were designed to outlive our usefulness and battle ourselves into extinction. And I'm not going to be a part of it."