the_rebel_son | Truth or Dare: Nexus Edition

"Hello princess." Lucifer has a pair of wine glasses, one he offers to Leia. "Are you playing tonight or just watching the madness?"

"Hello charming one." She smiled and took the wine with a nod of thanks. "I suppose I am. Assuming I don't get into too much trouble. And you?"

She gets a kiss on the cheek for that smile, though it is just a friendly peck. "I am too much trouble, but I will play if you do."

Leia smiled at the kiss, stroking his cheek after. "Fair exchange. How exactly is this game played?"

"It is a child's game." Lucifer informed her but that didn't mean it wasn't fun. "You ask a person 'truth or dare' and they respond. If it is truth, then you can ask a question that must be answered honestly. Dare, you can dare them to do something."

Lucifer shrugged. "I will even be a gentleman and let you ask me first."

But what to ask, indeed. That was a wide open playing field but that can be a trap as well. If anyone could over think a child's game it's Leia. "Well, I suppose bot a truth or a dare could be equally dangerous if handled inelegantly." So it required some thought. Perhaps she should start simply.

"Alright, truth or dare?"

"You are playing with the devil." And he's teasing but it is true.

"Truth."

Oh she has gone round with him on this discussion before. But for whatever reason she has no fear of him.

"Very well, so tell me the truth. What is the one thing people misunderstand about you the most?"

"Everything is not a good answer, I suppose?" Lucifer snorted a sigh at the question. Sometimes it surely felt that way. "Most common though, probably people believing I have control of or influence thier behaviors or the outcomes of thier lives. There are plenty that think I am the one that causes everything dark or wrong in thier lives."

Yes Everything is a bit too broad, but she nodded and accepted his final answer. "So you are not then, ultimate temptation. Well that's a relief." She smirked and sipped her wine.

"Fair is fair, my turn I suppose."

"In general, no." He smiles taking a sip of the wine. "One on one, I can make no guarantees I am not the temptation no one can ignore."

"Truth or dare, princess?"

"You are a temptation, indeed. It makes me glad you have a sense of propriety." Leia chuckled softly, but there was truth in what she said.

"Dangerous questions, both seem like they could get me in trouble. I think truth might be easier. But I've been mistaken before."

That gets a laugh from Lucifer. "My propriety is a side effect of having a very attractive partner who keeps me taken care of."

"If I am to be called a tempter, then the truth should fit the accusation." He grins with playful deviousness. "If you could ask me, with no strings attached, for anything... what would you ask for?"

That is entirely too open a question and as much as she would love to give a quick easy answer like peace in the Galax, that was far too open to interpretation. Leia thought about it for a long moment before she shrugged and had only one thing that made sense to ask for.

"The wisdom to lead people for the best end of their lives and prosperity."

The smile that Lucifer gets as he shakes his head is bright and amused.

"That is not a wish I think I could grant." He's almost laughing. "I cannot give something I think you already have."

She laughed, well she could argue his assessment of her but she'd take the compliment. "Perhaps a dare instead then?"

That is worth a seriously devilish grin. "I might lose my claim to propriety if I issue a dare."

And there was that blush, hidden behind a soft cough and demure cast of eyes at the ground. “You’re teasing me now, hardly gentlemanly of you.”

"Any gentleman who does not tease and flirt with someone this beautiful hardly deserves the title." Oh that blush only encourages him. "If we must have a dare, then I dare you to waltz with me for no less than ten minutes."

“Incorrigible.” The blush remained though the heat fading from it. She nodded. “T
You needn’t have dared me for that, it would be my pleasure.”

Leila inclined her head and looped her arm through his.

"I am flattered by the compliment." He pats her hand gently and leads her away from any chairs that might be in the way.

"I am usually charming enough to get a dance without a dare." He has to tease just a little. "Do you know the waltz?"

He couldn't be sure. Different worlds and time periods might not be all the same after all.

"I should think so, I believe I mentioned once you were dangerously charming. Like slow alcohol, it overwhelms you before you realize it." Leia stepped with him, always light on her feet. Dancing lessons were part of courtly behavior after all.

"I believe I know what that means, I was introduced to new dances at a wedding celebration recently." And she'd had excellent partners there to instruct her. "But if you care to lead I am sure to follow."

:I am not even trying to charm you." He flashes a sly smile as she steps in with him. "Imagine if I was really trying."

Lucifer stopped taking her one hand, placing the other on his shoulder, his own settling on her hip, gentlemanly and not too low. "I am as good at dancing as I am at charming beautiful princesses."

He starts slow and a little exaggerated in his leading signals until he sees if she knows and follow.

"I don't know whether to feel lucky or sad about that." That smile was far from innocent though and she giggled just a tiny bit in response.

Leia fell into step, a hand resting on his shoulder as directed the other resting in his palm. "Then I am in good hands."

His steps are indeed smooth, she can barely feel the movement but he makes it easy to follow and, if she can say it, even quite enjoyable. Leia was beaming a smile in moments.

"I could start flirting on purpose, let you decide?" And now he is flirting on purpose, voice low and devious.

Once she is comfortable and following Lucifer happily falls into more complicated steps and spin. He is slowly pulling her closer, but mostly just from generalized happiness and having a talented partner.

How was he capable of simply smiling and making that blush rise? It was clearly part of his supernatural powers and that voice was indecently effective. "I don't know if I trust myself to stop you."

Leia matched his steps easily enough but did catch her breath when he drew her closer. Nefarious devil that he was, he would have to be amused by her reactions. She was certainly enjoying the dance if a bit, as always, in awe of her partner.

Lucifer was naturally charming. He hadn't done anything with his supernatural, angelic abilities. It was part of his pride to seduce and flirt with only his innate and learned skills. A pleasure to leveling the playing field, as it were, with this target. He did laugh. "You can trust me. I am a gentleman, and mostly, very happily taken."

He loved to dance. A partner who was light on their feet and obviously enjoying his company made it all the better. She was likely going to have to send him away or he would have her out here until she was legitimately tired.

She was thankful that most men lacked the degree of charm he had developed, imagine if Han had that ability. She would have been in a difficult spot. "What is your partner like If I may ask."

She was also fond of dancing, and with him it seemed as though there was no effort involved at all.

He points out Balthazar and there's an instant smile plastered on his face when he sees the other angel.

"A drunken, smart mouthed angel, and so romantic it should be a sin?" Lucifer couldn't help but laugh quietly. "He has attitude and charm enough to put me in my place."

He adores the other angel, even if he is dancing rather close to Leia and occasionally flirts, just the way he speaks about Balthazar expresses that no one else has a chance in hell at Lucifer. His heart is firmly taken by the other angel. "He is brazen, insatiable, and slightly boyish. The angel behind the human form is very beautiful."

If she wanted Lucifer to get chatty this was the way. He would talk about Balthazar for hours.

Something about seeing how he lit up was wonderful, there was true love when he looked at the other angel and she could feel it radiate off him. No, surely she could imagine it based on his closeness. She wasn't like Luke, she couldn't feel things through the force like he could.

"Sounds like you are a perfect pair. I'm so glad you've found someone you love so much, I hope to do so myself someday." If that was possible, though with her life and her career that wasn't likely.

Insatiable sounded like the exact sort of partner someone like Lucifer needed, she supposed eternity was far easier to manage when you had such a partner to share it with.

Angels of Lucifer's creation had a tendency for radiating strong emotions without thinking about it. They were, in part, created from raw emotions and sometimes they leaked passed the illusions they wore.

"I have to remind him, sometimes, that he is perfect." Even in his happiness the angel sighs. "It took a long time and crossing into a different realm to find him. Hopefully yours will be easier to find, but I imagine a woman as beautiful and strong as you are will find someone eventually."

He places his hand up higher and pauses for a moment to give Leia a hug, strong and familial, more like a father or older brother. He would be happy to continue dancing but something in the way she spoke said, to the angel, that she needed comfort.

"I have to remind someone that he isn't." She laughed softly thinking of just how much that pilot thought of himself.

The hug was a surprise, but not unwelcome, she found she really needed it. Leia returned the hug warmly and took comfort from it. It had been a long time since she had allowed any sort of comfort let alone anything that reminded her of her home and father. This was enough to make tears form in her eyes. Leia eased back blinking hard and looking away. "I'm sorry, must have gotten something in my eyes."

She'd kept herself together this long, she can't be breaking down now.

"I would not be surprised if there were some who would say that about me." He had pride in abundance and though he didn't often think of himself as perfect, he definitely had moments of acting like he did.

He doesn't stop her from pulling away but speaks quietly. "You do not have to hide them. Even I break sometimes. I know how it feels to know you have to look the part constantly." Then he speaks up laughing and back to his usual good nature and humor to lighten the mood. "I will take the blame. I am obviously so charming I have misted your eyes with my perfection."

Her expression, when her gaze returned to him, was grateful. She dabbed gently at her eyes and resumed the mask of composure that was her life. "I suppose that's not entirely untrue. You do have ways about you that effect people."

But she was thankful that he understood and allowed her that moment to pull herself together. Maybe she did need to let herself unburden her feelings, but her friend was not the person for that. No, she thought she knew who was, ut that would remain to be seen.

"I would be a poor devil if I did not." His expression is devious when he brings his fingers up to tilt her chin and keep their gaze. "Should you find yourself unable to resist, you are always welcome to bury your face in my shoulder. I will not mind."

The words themselves are flirtatious as his actions, but the tone is compassionate and kind. This is what made Lucifer dangerous. It wasn't his power, though that was unsettling. It was his ability to do one thing, say something completely different, and mean another unrelated thing. Without watching him very carefully, or if he didn't want his meaning found, he could hide meaning right in front of someone. In this case it allowed him to offer support without losing appearances.

"perhaps you would like to sit and have a drink, and no it does not have to be alcoholic."

Edited 2020-04-09 09:34 (UTC)

"You are so very kind to offer, I think sitting and having a drink would be nice, thank you." He had proven himself a good friend in her time in the Nexus and she thought it was something of a pity he would never be able to see her galaxy or the wonders there.

She followed toward chairs and sat herself with her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Do you miss your home? I mean the one you knew before you rebelled?"

Lucifer followed and was about to go get them drinks when she asks that question. Instead he drops into the chair next to her and asks one of the angels, whomever is conveniently nearby, to fetch them some cocoa. Cocoa was the obvious drink when you're upset. This mindset was more than likely Balthazar's fault but his mind is not thinking along those lines. It is focused on the question.

"That question means something different to me, than it does to a human, or even other angels." It's Lucifer's turn to feel the pressure of bottled emotions as his gaze drops to some random spot on the floor. "I am the light that created our universe. It is part of me even after being cast out of it, and the connection so strong that they had to severely damage me to break it enough to throw me from it."

The words aren't coming easily. In part because of the emotions but also the concepts are not in the human experience. "I have lost children and though the universe is not dead, there are similar feelings of loss. The sense of injustice and general feeling of melancholy are comparable, though the scale is grander, perhaps, in this situation."

The cocoa broke his darker train of thought. Offering one of the mugs to Leia, the normal mischief returned to his expression. "I am forbidden, but I do visit sometimes. It feels like seeing a friend you have always felt kinship with, but see only very rarely."

That was surely the saddest thing she could conceive. Being separated from the life you created because the choice was made by someone else. What could that even feel like? Like a vast part of yourself was missing surely, and so terribly tragic. She felt sorry for his pain, though not for him. He had no need and less use for her pity, but his strength to endure had her admiration. Should she ever find herself fin such a situation she would hope to endure it as well as he had.

"Rebellion is not kind to its leaders, often striking the spark means you have to burn your own path back. It's difficult even when you know it is the right thing to do." she understood that well enough and grasped one of his hands in a gesture of that shared understanding.

And then the cocoa arrived and with it a lightened mood. "I wish I could go home, but that isn't an option. I have some of it with me in my heart and memory. It is my reminder of why I keep fighting."

"No, it is not." The emotions start to fade and the usual unconquerable facade came back. He took her hand and held tight to it; confident and sympathetic. "We were thrown into a prison that was supposed to be torture. Even that I have turned into a kingdom where they can thrive."

He smiles a little more nodding at her comment about a lost home. "I think that is what it means to be a rebel. It is not fighting against authority or being counter to everything. Being the rebellious one is the ability to take anything given to you and turn it into something better than it was." He took a sip of the cocoa and grins broad and mischievous as when he flirts. "The greatest thing we can do is refuse to break when our enemies heap suffering on us beyond what is imaginable to endure. The essence of rebellion is to have a unconquerable will."

"How is it you always manage to inspire me?" Even in what was a deeply emotional conversation, he manages to turn it into something that lets her refocus on the main cause she held dear.

"I'm a firm believer in hope. When you have nothing else, hope is the light you move toward." As she had done, as she tried to inspiring others. Hope is a spark and the flame it can light can blaze the way and burn down the tyranny they all faced.

"I am the first rebel." He laughs quietly. "I have been accused of holding a fool's hope. Perhaps we have more in common than we yet understand."

"My hope has been called foolish more than once." She laughed with him, and it felt good to be able to.

"You are in good company." He smiles and turns to look at the other angels. "They were without hope and ready to fade and die when I called them to hope. I would not choose anything other than my foolishness."

"We were a handful of worlds willing to take a stand against a galactic empire with a tyrant's grip. The odds were against us openly, but I knew no one wanted to live under that yoke. So I stepped up to lead, hope was our call to arms. It remains so. The last thing I can cling to when everything else is gone." The last thing she had when her own home was destroyed. Hope that they had not died in vain, that others might be spared the same fate if she succeeded.

It was instinct alone that had Lucifer's hand on her cheek, gentle and warm. "When I turned on our tyrant I was willing to do it alone, the rest joined on their own without asking. I am king because they needed a leader, not for want or desire."

He kissed her forehead between the brows and pulled away. "For what it is worth being creations apart, you have my blessing on your endeavors, and my help if it is wanted."

"Seems we've found ourselves as leaders to a cause of liberation." It was another commonality they shared.

"Thank you, I hope yours continue to well. I can't offer the same sort of blessing. But you have my best wishes on it." He seemed to have the interests of freedom at heart and that is what she felt was the most important liberty.

"Few better causes than freedom from oppression, even if I would prefer not to be a king or leader."

"Thank you. The blessing of a human is no more or less important than an angel's. I have abilities you do not but encouragement has the same weight no matter who it comes from."

"I think you are well suited to your position, even if you'd rather not. Sometimes those of us who would favor a quieter more simple life are fated to be leaders." She felt sympathy for him, but couldn't argue with his people looking to him for guaidance.

"I have always thought the best suited are those who do not want the high positions." Lucifer contemplated this many times before. "They are among the few that are unlikely to turn the position into a power vacuum." He smiled at her, patting her hand. "It is something else I believe you and I have in common, that makes us good for where we are."

"That is possibly a universal truth." She had to agree, often those who had no desire for power were the best to wield it all other things being equal.

"Agreed, so a devil and a princess, it sounds like a child's story doesn't it?"

"I am sure that means you are an even better ruler than I am." Lucifer can't resist a complement.

"Indeed." He smiles at her. "I have a princess, my daughter, and you have a lot in common. She would write the kind of children's story I can imagine you have in mind."

Peter was just dared to do something creatively entertaining, and decided that Leia was a good enough option to test the water with. He didn't know her. And she didn't know him. So that in itself would be entertaining.

"Sup!" Peter gives her a slight wave, as he approached. "Ever want to learn how to do The Cabbage Patch? Or the Robot?"

"Hello." Leia turned with a smile to the young man she hadn't met before. And then blinked with an utter lack of comprehension as his following words. "I.. don't know. I'm not sure what those things are." She paused. "Well I mean I know what a robot is, droids are common place after all, but I get the feeling this isn't the context you mean." But it seems as though she is encouraging him o enlighten her.

"This is precious." Peter grins. "The Robot I meant is a dance..."

He holds out his walkman to her, and places the earphones over her ears. And presses play. And then he starts to break into a Robot dance to the music that plays. To show her what he means.

Leia listened, the music was far from anything she'd heard before but it had a very strong beat and that seemed to guide the rest of the music. And then she saw the man dance..well not dancing like she'd seen but he surely looked like what it might be if 3PO had ever tried.

She smiled, she laughed and then shook her head. "How do you do that?"

"See... I totally have to teach you." Peter grinned. Glad that Leia enjoyed the dance.

He stepped closer, and reached out his hand. "May I?"

"Alright, show me." Leia nodded and took his hand. Unsure how she was supposed to learn something like that but willing to try. And his attitude of fun was contagious.

"So the best way to think... is like you are a robot. Or your joints are stiff. So make this one arm like stiff. And bent it at the elbow..." Peter moves to gently guide Leia into the dance move.

Leai tried her best to follow his instructions, she watched him and imagined her arms and legs and all joints mechanically operated like 3PO. It worked to a degree. While she was no where near as convincing she did at least seem to get the general gist of it.

"There you go! You keep practicing and you will be a Robot Dance master in no time." Peter winks and grins with a lopsided smile.

Leia is laughing and amused until she sees that smile, it reminds her very much of someone else and her laughter quiets. "Thank you for the instruction. I'm sure it will be put to good use someday."

Ian is always looking for a beautiful woman to share his company. When he sees this one he can't help himself, even if this is mildly embarrassing. He even based the song he sings randomly at this guest on the nickname he was given during Harley's dare

Leia was completely surprised by the serenade, and completely delighted. She smiled broadly and at the end gave an enthusiastic round of applause for his efforts. "That was very creative of you."

Ian laughs, a snort of self amusement at the applause. "I...uh.. made it up awhile ago for my daughter when she was sick."

"Dr. Ian Malcolm, and you are?" Of course he is going to introduce himself to the woman with a truly beautiful smile.

"Oh, that's charming." Leia smiled yet again and extended a hand to him. "Princess Leia Organa, it's a pleasure to meet you Doctor Malcolm."

The fact that he wrote the song for his child was incredibly sweet.

"Princess?" He takes her hand and kisses it because who can resist kissing a princess' hand? "Where.. uh.. yeah, where are you princess?"

He had been around enough to know the answer might be mind boggling. Some small part hoped it was something strange.

The chivalrous act earned a raised brow and inclined her head. "My home world was Alderaan." Past tense, she spoke on to save him the awkwardness of asking. "It's gone now."

Ian's research told him everything eventually broke, planets included. However, it was a bit different meeting someone who had experienced it.

"Uh.. I'm sorry." What else could you say to someone who just revealed their planet was gone.

"Thank you, but the survivors have banded together and we're doing what we can to honor the memory. Perhaps I should have someone write a song, seems to have worked well for you." She was trying, in her very diplomatic was to steer the conversation way from talk of sad things and not make him feel obligated to further discuss what happened.

Ian motioned out to the other guests. "I've heard a lot of singing tonight. Maybe you can find someone." He had a knack for ignoring catastrophe enough to get by. He does laugh though quietly. "It's the attention that's important, more than the words."

"Maybe." She agreed, though she probably should look to her own people for something like that. "Ahh I see. So you are skilled at paying attention to people. Not a bad quality to have. I've found in dealings with others it can be very helpful."

"It sounds like.. uh.. our job s have similar skills." Chaotician that keep track of people with zero moral compass.

"I'm not sure you'd agree if you knew what my occupation has been." Was it still? Things were dissolving so quickly that there wasn't much point in claiming to be what she used to be.

"Former politician, now leader in a rebellion."

"I'm a chaotician stopping.. hmmm... people from making worse mistakes than the last time they made a similar but less worse mistake." Was that even a job description. It sounded like a terrible one. Underpayed and overworked babysitter of adults with no forethought would probably be more accurate.

"A what? I'm not familiar with that discipline." He seemed to be someone who was charged with keeping people from thinking they were smarter than they were honestly. She could use someone like that back home. Though she supposed Winter might qualify, the woman was as brilliant as she was beautiful and in all honesty she should have been the princess.

"Uh.. it is a branch of science that sees seemingly disordered and random dynamic systems are all predictable through defined and deterministic universal laws." It was a mouth full and he expected there to be confusion. It was rare that there was someone who wasn't confused.

"Ah," She thought on that and nodded. "You sound like my friend Winter, she also finds patterns and outlooks based on things others see as purely random occurrences. She's been an incalculable help to our rebellion. I hope your people appreciate your skills as well."

Malcolm nodded. It did sound similar enough. "They are usually annoyed when I tell them what their little science experiments are going to do."

Here Harley sits, awaiting the first person to ask her a question or give her a dare.

It is a very drunk Beelzebub that finds her first, because he needs to check in on his favorite girl, even if he's drunk by his own standards.

"Truth or dare?" Because formal rules of the game are important.

Harley knows that Beelzebub would give her a really interesting dare. And that she would end up doing it. But that would happen even outside this game.

So...

"Truth." She wants to know what question is most important to him to ask.

It takes the angel time to consider a plethora of questions. He doesn't know Harley as much as he would like to, so he has to filter away the mundane questions that could be asked at any time.

"What about yourself are you most proud of? The thing that when you are down and spent brings back your self confidence and will?" It was an important question for anyone, and one he'd hear from his ward.

He doesn't realize this, but this is a very good question to ask right now... especially considering what Harley went through after dealing with Joker a few months back.

"My resilience. The fact that I can take a lickin' and keep kickin'." Harley smiles.

"It's a good trait to have." Yes, the angel is proud of her because even if he wasn't there he has an awareness that something horrible was endured recently.

"Do you ask next?" He's not sure how the game is supposed to work, but it seemed fair to be turnabout with it.

"Ohhhh I would love to. Truth or dare?" Harley grins.

He's already experimented with a dare so. "Truth."

"Hmmmmm let's see. What would upset you the most, where you just have to go bazeerk mode?"

That gets a huge, drunken laugh from Beelzebub. "That happens all the time. I turned over a police car a couple nights ago."

But she did ask what would be the worst? He takes time to think it over but one thing just keeps revolving back into his mind. The thought makes him nervous but he knows it's true. "Someone attempting to kill you or Galahad."

For different reasons, but both people he was oath bound to and were human which would set off his rage. "I'm oathbound to both of you."

"Oh sweet Angel Mine." And even without Cricket's dare, Beelzebub has his own Harley nickname. "I have people trying to kill me daily."

"I wouldn't want you to go uber bazeerk over the life I choose."

"But SERIOUSLY! You still have to introduce me to Galahad. Like soon."

He smiles at the nickname but shrugs. "It'd happen once and maybe never again."

War blowingbup was not something anyone wanted to see. He'd held the seraphim, which greatly out ranked him in power, at bay. Humans, even powered ones, were not going last long if he flew into a rage.

However, the comment about Galahad causes his wings to twitch, the equivalent of someone nervously shifting on their feet. "He's here, if you want to."

Harley takes Beelzebub's arm in her own, and beams at him. "I would love to meet him. If you cool with it..."

"Yes." Beelzebub grins and starts to lead her over to Galahad. His cocky swagger is exaggerated because he's very proud of Galahad. It's taken some time, and pushing from others but he's getting better with the recent changes to his situation.

"Harley, this is Sir Galahad du Lac" Haughty and drunk, but the way he says the human's name is full of affection. "Galahad, this is Harley Quinn, one of those I watch over."

Ward was the proper term but it sounded too juvenile for Harley.

Galahad's in the middle of helping himself to a small fruit platter when Beelzebub and Harley come over to join him. He's glad for the company, and smiles at the pair as they come close. More comfortable with being casual in the Nexus, the knight's smile becomes a little self-effacing as the angel uses his full title.

"You can call me Galahad, if you like." A beat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady. Are you both enjoying yourselves?"

Judging from how well everything seems to be going (and how tipsy the angel seems) it seems to him like everyone's having fun.

"Oh! I would like. A lot. But you have to call me Harley in return." Because she hella sure ain't no Lady.

"We just finished a quick little round of asking each other truths. How'about'ya? Had anyone ask you Truth or Dare yet?"

"Lucifer brought out the brandy." Which explains why he's so drunk and Galahad gets a kiss on the cheek in the middle of talking.

He's more than a little curious to see if Harley can get Galahad to play. So far, he hadn't been that the angel noticed.

"Harley then." The temptation to call Harley 'lady' is strong and reflexive, but for the sake of being casual he thinks he can manage to tamp down on the usual knightly honorifics.

The little kiss on the cheek earns a smile and a slight flushing of the knight's cheeks. He wraps his hands more securely around the apple he's nabbed from the table filled with food, suddenly needing something to distract himself with.

"Not yet, no," he admits. "I've mostly been trying to keep things from getting out of hand..." As a judge, is he even allowed to play, he wonders?

"Well I am more than alright with things getting out of hand. So Galahad… Truth? Or Dare?"

He's not entirely sure what he might be getting himself into by playing this game, but one of the options on offer seems harmless enough to Galahad.

"Truth?"

When has giving the truth ever not been a matter of course for him?

"Goodie. This will give me a chance to get to know you, since I know nearly nothing about you. So your truth, Good Galahad, is to tell me one really amazing thing about your life, that not a lot of other people know. Bonus points if not even Angel Mine here knows." She nods over to Beelzebub.

Instinctual modesty has Galahad hesitating at the word 'amazing'; He's not sure he'd describe anything about himself as amazing, or anything another person couldn't achieve with time and patience. Still, he considers the question carefully, wanting to give this new friend a worthy answer to her question.

"God sends me dreams and visions of my path. Only rarely are they clear, but they're filled with such images that would bring any person rapture: clouds being parted by pillars of light, stars sparkling on the surface of a lake I know not the name of, but know will be important to the faithful in my world." His hold on the apple in his hands tightens a little as a quietly simmering excitement rises with his words. "One day the meaning of these dreams will be clear to me, but for now I feel lucky to have been one of those chosen to receive them."

Cricket is a tiny bit beyond tipsy, although he almost never lets himself get so drunk he can't walk straight, because that's a real hazard when you have metal strapped to both legs. As such, his inhibitions are down a little. He offers Harley a drink of his moonshine with a bright, hazy grin, then sits in the chair beside her.

"We ain't talked near enough lately. Truth or Dare?"

"We haven't...." Harley takes the moonshine with a bright grin. And savors the taste as she debates her choices.

"Dare." Let's see what Cricket will dare her to do, shall we.

This is the kind of game he and Jack would have played as boys, had they known about it. Cricket takes a minute to think about what kind of dare he would have given Jack, compares it with things Jack did on his own without being dared to, and comes up with something slightly less likely to get anyone in trouble.

"Pick three people in th' room, other than me, and give them the best nicknames you can think of. Silly, embarrassing, whatever."

Edited (typo) 2020-02-16 03:19 (UTC)

"Easy Peasy... Lemon Squeezy... Quick clarifying question." Harley plays with the ends of her braids. "Do I have to tell those people their nicknames?"

Well, that's an angle Cricket hadn't considered. He rubs the back of his neck, trying to think of how it would work if she didn't tell people their nicknames, and decides that might be too easy.

"You can either tell the people themselves or if you know they got someone in here who'd take up the nickname and run with it, you can tell them. That fair?"

"Oh very fair..." Harley winks at Cricket. She has a few ideas that will be a lot of fun.

[Nickname #1. Nickname #2. And to be updated in the morning with Number #3]

Edited 2020-02-16 05:23 (UTC)

Cricket just grins and watches as she goes on her merry way, listening to her assignments from a distance.

She, of course, has the option to ask him Truth or Dare when she returns!

After completing her task, (Ian was Number #3), Harley returns to find Cricket.

"That was fun! So your turn! Truth or Dare?"

"Dare!" There is no hesitation. Holy shit, Cricket, how much have you had to drink again?

"Alright. My dare to you is to find a willing person... not me, because I would totally do it and that would be cheating... who will you a piggy back ride for 10 minutes." Harley grinned.

His first instinct is to laugh about the dare, because it's cute and harmless and very characteristic of their relationship. Then he starts thinking about who to ask, brow creasing as he looks around the room. Asking any woman (or female-presenting person) other than Harley is right out; they may be more than strong enough, but he's just not comfortable.

His gaze alights on Beelzebub, but the angel of drunkenness is, predictably, three sheets to the wind. Cricket doesn't like his chances of getting dropped there. He has a feeling if he asked skekGra he'd try, but he doesn't know how strong he is and it would be bad if he injured delicate bird-bones.

Thor is the most logical option...and yet.

Fuck it. No guts no glory. He reaches for his jar, takes a swallow, and heads for possibly the last person he's comfortable asking. The boy has a contrarian streak.

Edited 2020-02-16 02:35 (UTC)

"Thor!" Peter comes up to the familiar face with a grin. "Truth or Dare!"

Thor gives his human friend a little wave of greeting, and for a moment, he debates which one to answer. Right, he has to choose, doesn't he? "Ah... truth, I suppose?"

"Name three people from the Nexus that you would want by your side, for a big fight." Peter knows that Thor is a strong fighter himself. So he is curious.

"Three, hmm?" Thor has to consider that, a pang of sorrow that he can't include Steve among that number anymore. "I suppose it'd have to be Prometheus, Blaze, and Prince."

Not that he hopes he has to fight anytime soon, nor drag his friends into the line of fire. But if he had to trust anyone to watch his back in battle, it would be those three.

“I don’t know any of those people. Would you willing to tell me a little about why you would want to fight by their side... if you had to?”

He doesn't need to be asked twice to extol the virtues of his chosen compatriots. "Prometheus is... right over there, actually," he says, pointing over to where the judges are sitting, and gives his friend a little wave. "He's a deity called a Titan, but not like... anyway. I've sparred with him before, and he can become bigger than the Ant Man, so he could pick up most enemies I've fought and sit on them if he had to."

"Blaze is a robot lady warrior. I haven't fought her yet, but she likes explosives and high velocity weaponry. And she can't die and stay dead, so that'd be handy to have in a fight. Prince is a creature called a dinosaur. Big, huge claws and teeth, could probably eat a man in a couple bites."

"Neat." Peter takes a moment to study Prometheus, since he is nearby. He is not sure who Ant Man is, but the power still sounds interesting.

And the other two mentioned individuals also sound interesting.

"Did you want to ask me?"

"Oh, uh... right." That is how the game works, yes? "Truth or dare, then?"

"Dare." Why not? Peter hasn't had to face anything too horrible today.

Oh, hmm. Thor hadn't planned this far ahead. Not that he'd had a question in mind if Peter had chosen truth, mind you. He has to think about this for a moment, scratching at his beard.

"I dare you to... er... sing a song to someone you've never met." There, that's a good dare, right?

"I can do that." And Peter proceeds to find someone he doesn't know

Before the truth or dare questions begin in earnest, Prometheus gets off his chaise and approaches Thor, patting his shoulder with a friendly hand.

"Hey," he says quietly. "Between you and me, if you get a question or a dare you don't want to do, just let me know and I'll veto it, okay? Just say the word, I'll convince the other two judges to agree with me. Don't get pressured into doing something you don't want to do."

Judges are supposed to be impartial, but Prometheus also looks out for his cousin from another pantheon. (And Loki would probably yell at him if he sat back and let Thor do something stupid.)

Thor hadn't really considered that there might be some request of him that might cross a line - this is supposed to be game, and games are supposed to be fun, right? But now that the possibility has been brought up, he's glad Prometheus is here and said something. Because what if someone does ask him something too painful to answer, or worse yet, something that drags him back down the path he's spent so much time struggling to gain ground from?

"Oh... thank you." He manages a small smile of gratitude for his friend. "Do you think that's... likely?"

"No problem."

Prometheus smiles warmly, then takes a shrewd look around at the other game players, tugging a little at the end of his beard.

"Hard to say, I don't know a lot of the people here. Lucifer is the epitome of xenia, so I doubt he'd let any other party-goers get out of hand. But you never know, sometimes people ask things without thinking them through. There are a whole lot more immortals than mortals, too, so the dares might be more risky. Bottom line, you give me a shout if you need me."

Deciding whether to answer a truth or perform a dare has suddenly gotten a lot more tricky. But Thor is nevertheless grateful that Prometheus is in a position not only to warn him about it, but also put a halt to anything that might go too far. "I will. Thank you, my friend."

Thor is mostly sitting in one place and to Deet he actually looks like he's sad, or maybe just shy? And so when the way is clear, she makes her way over to him, walking across empty chairs, and perches on the back of the couch across from him.

"Hello! I'm Deet. We don't have to play unless you want to, but I thought it would be nice to meet you."

Brace yourself, Thor, it's about to get adorable up in here.

Her unusual approach means that Thor doesn't notice until she's close, and then he startles slightly, more out of her sneaking up on him than the way she looks. He's seen far stranger species across the universe, though as he eyes her, he doesn't recognize where she might hail from. Some kind of elf, maybe?

Whatever she is, she sounds like a child of some sort. He smiles a little, less hesitant than he might be with an adult stranger. "...hi. I'm Thor." There's not a child in Asvera, or anywhere on Earth for that matter, that doesn't hold a spark of trauma in their eyes. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to see someone without it, and there's a soft ache in his chest that he can't name. "I don't think I've seen you around before...?"

He is not the first to take her for a child. Gelfling all look quite soft and young to other species' eyes (expect perhaps to podlings, who probably think they look like gawky huge-eyed aliens). Deet is, in fact, full-grown, but her mannerisms, like her voice and face, speak of youth and a gentle spirit. There is a dark energy she carries, but it's well-controlled in here.

"I haven't been here all that long," she tells him brightly. "A few months. And I mostly visit with skekGra and urGoh or with the angels, so it's not that surprising we haven't met yet."

"It's a little weird, actually, being almost the only person my size around. But everyone seems awfully kind so far."

She considers a moment, then adds: "If you want to play, we could just trade truths and only ask nice questions, like 'what's your favorite animal?'"

“I suppose it would be.” Most folk in the Nexus tend to be of a height with Asgardians and humans alike, though Thor has met those both smaller and larger than those. He smiles at her, thinking of how very small he’d felt the first time he had visited Nidavellir, the great forge designed for towering dwarves. What might it be like for her, then?

It’s probably for the best that he’s already sitting down. Makes it easier to let her look him in the eye, at least; he’s considered tall even among his own people without her being so short.

Her offer is a kind one, and though Thor knows how even the most innocent question may provoke a melancholy mood, her innocent kindness is disarming enough that he finds himself warming to the idea. “I’d like that.” Might as well begin with the question she’s already asked, then. It’s one he doesn’t have to think much about. “I like snakes best. They’re beautiful creatures, even the dangerous ones. What’s yours?”

Lucifer is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

With nothing much to do on his own end right now, Peter steps up to Lucifer. "Hey! Truth or dare?"

Lucifer is in no mood to tempt fate with a dare, even if the other option can open a can of worms.

"Truth." And for Lucifer this is cheating since he can't lie to begin with.

"Let's see... tell me about three people who have really surprised you, since you arrived to the Nexus." Peter decides on a question, that shouldn't be too much of a can of worms.

"Balthazar. I loathed celestial angels when I arrived here and we were magnets the moment we met. We have barely been apart since I stepped through our doorway."

That one was easy. After that, he has to pause and think.

"Loki, because he is so different than the one who dwells with us. And....Deet. My son has been isolated for billions of years since he was tortured. Something about her has given him the will to come out of his darkness."

"Sounds like they are definitely people who made a difference for you."

"Glad you found Balthazar. He is a good dude."

"There have been many since I arrived. I suppose it is the nature of coming out of billions of years isolated in a prison."

Lucifer can admit that easily now. "He's irreplaceable."

Lucifer grinned. "Are you playing this game tonight?"

"Up to playing. No one has asked me anything yet." Peter arches his eyebrows.

"Then let me be the first." Lucifer responds with a sly and devious glance. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Peter figures he might as well find out what is behind that devious glance.

Lucifer takes his time considering. There are many things about Peter's speed that he is curious about, but would those really be challenging? Probably not.

"Steal something from someone here you do not know or do not know well, but you cannot use your accelerated speed. You must do it as everyone else would, at a normal human speed."

That seemed challenging enough. Not only for skill but also restraining one's power.

“Can I do something else that is not stealing?” Peter frowns. He looks around a little worried and then lowers his voice. “I am a recovering kleptomaniac. And it would just be too tempting to... just keep on taking shit that is not mine.”

It is a part of his life that he is not proud about.

"I did not mean to bring up something you did not wish to do." He's sincere and didn't want to upset one of Balthazar's friends, someone who might be his friend.

Lucifer grins a bit. "What if we keep the dare the same but it is a kiss you must steal?"

"You didn't know. And thanks for respecting my yellow zone." Peter chuckled.

"That. I can do." And he will attempt to steal a kiss from Azazael.

"We all have things we wish to avoid." Lucifer sympathizes then grins as he walks off to find a target.

As soon as he realizes who Peter is going for he starts laughing. Oh! This is going to be amusing to watch. And Lucifer does sit back with a glass of wine to watch the shenanigans.

For the most part, Cricket is a gentle, quiet soul. He tends to seek out people wilder than he is and serve as a counterpoint to their recklessness; that's just the kind of friendship he's prone to. Every now and again, though, a twenty year old has to do something exquisitely foolish to fill a quota.

"'Scuse me, sir?" He's spoken to Lucifer via text but never in person. "I got a dare I need some help with. Would you be willing to--" Cough. What is he doing??

"That is, Harley dared me to have someone carry me on their back for ten minutes." He's looking anywhere but at Lucifer as he stammers out the request, but hey, it's one for the history books. Not everyone has the balls to ask the devil for a piggyback ride, right?

Lucifer is in a splendid mood, just a hint tipsy and pleased with spontaneous parties in general. He's glad to see that the unnerving quality of his presence is slowly wearing off.

When addressed he turns around from whatever socializing he's doing to face Cricket. As soon as he hears Harley's name he knows something is up and the what gets a shake of his head. Of course Harley would dare someone to do something like this. At least he knows who to embarass in the future.

Though he does wonder what others will think of him carrying around someone boy on his back. "Are you going to keep time?"

Phenex can't resist an author, and honestly they hadn't spoken to anyone yet. It was almost as fun watching the chaos that was happening, rather than participate.

"Good evening." They address her with a smile. "Are you playing this child's game or observing as I have been?"

Esther smiles a little. She's had a few drinks.

"Actually, I'm thinking of playing," she admits. "Why not?"

"I've considered participating, too." Phenex hasn't been drinking but loves to be social. It's worth the risk. "Truth or dare, then."

Esther shrugs.

"Truth. Why not?"

A couple drinks more, and she might've gone for the dare. But she's feeling bold in a different way right now.

Phenex thinks on the concept and then smiles. "Will you tell me a story that is your own; one you have written or unwritten?"

Esther's face darkens, and she feels like she's suddenly sobered up.

"I can," she says slowly. "It might be hard to hear, though."

Phenex sympathizes and reaches out to take the woman's hand. "I have passed through much darkness. I am willing to listen to anything you want me to hear." They pause and then motion toward the nearby chairs. "Shall we sit?"

Phenex had a way with artists and discoverers when they experienced hardships, pain and sadness. Sometimes, their mere presence could calm and soothe such pains without effort.

Esther nods and moves towards the chairs.

"That might be best," she says. While she's grateful to be comforted, she's still a little nervous about telling her story. Besides, she doesn't want to upset Phenex.

Phenex motions to a pair of chairs against the wall and away from the more boisterous darers. "Can I gt you something to drink before we start?"

The angel is well aware that it may be difficult to speak and that it depended solely on what the woman choose. It seemed polite to offer.

[Non-participant judge until the 'ask the judges' round, but happily open to random mingling!]

"Galahad?" The angel approaching him is in all black, though rather modern clothing, and black wings. He's muscular like Beelzebub but not as tall, around six feet. His white eyes don't acknowledge anything but the black hawk on his shoulder cocks its head to get a look at Galahad. "It's a pleasure to finally see you among us."

The hawk settles on his shoulder after getting a look at the person before them. "I'm High Chancellor Belial.... Lucifer's advisor. I noticed they've given you a seat beside me to reign in this chaos. A vote that speaks highly to your mind."

Edited 2020-02-16 16:08 (UTC)

Beelzebub has pointed this angel out to Galahad before, but the knight has never had a chance to meet him personally. Belial seems polite and self-possessed to Galahad, and he gets the impression that he may be older than some of the other angels he's met before. Accordingly, the knight offers the angel a polite, but friendly smile when he turns to him and compliments him.

"'Tis a pleasure to meet you, Sir." His eyes trail admiringly up to the handsome-looking hawk on the angel's shoulder, and then back to Belial's face as he continues. He's never seen an angel besides Beelzebub carry around an animal companion like this. "Thank you for your kind words. It's been orderly so far from what I've seen, thankfully." His smile tugs a little wider. "Are you enjoying yourself this evening?"

It is true that among the fallen Belial is next in age after Lucifer, though several billion years separate their creation.

"Belial." He corrects politely. He knows that this human is closer to family than friend and therefore formality is less important. Hawk meets the knight's gaze inquisitively. Despite looking like a slightly larger than normal falcon or hawk, there's a sense to its gaze that the intelligence behind it is far beyond that of an animal. The angel's gaze remains distant and not necessarily focused on the man before him, though it wouldn't take much experience in life to realize the white eyes may indicate he's blind when paired with other behaviors.

"Agreed. I wouldn't want to reign in this many." Belial smiles and shakes his head. "I'm not as prone to debauchery and wildness as my brothers, but it is pleasant enough to note who has come. And your night is enjoyable?"

As much near-automatic good will as he has for members of Beelzebub's family, getting used to not using titles or honorifics for any of them is something that's taking Galahad time to get used to. He nods his head when Belial corrects him.

"Aye. When Beelzebub told me about the game I didn't think there would be this many people here. You've all made a great deal of friends and companions during your time in the Nexus." Galahad thinks it's good. From what Beelzebub has told him, they've all spent a lot of time isolated in Chaos and locked away from knowing or meeting people in a pleasant and friendly setting like this. "I am. It has been one of my wishes for some time to meet more of your people and to get to know all of you better, and I've done some of that tonight. I've been received with nothing but kindness and respect. 'Tis a joy, truly."

Galahad gets a light, quiet laugh from the angel. "No one was invited. This is what happens when the devil's mood turns to social endeavors. There are some here I haven't seen before, attracted by his spirit perhaps."

He nods briefly to the knight's assessment. "Etiquette goes a long way with our kind. Respect holds value." Then he shakes his head hearing the rancorous and drunken laughter of his brother.

"You choice of... interest.." Belial doesn't want to apply a label that is inappropriate but he can sense his brother's bond to this human quite clearly. "... offers you more courtesy. No one wants to see his sociable drunkenness turn to wrath over percieved slights."

That surprises Galahad a little. The gathering seems large for something that apparently formed spontaneously and without invitations being conveyed beforehand. "Aye? Whose idea was the game, then?"

The knight can't help but smile as he hears Beelzebub's laughter erupt over the surface of the sound of the many conversations happening in the room. Even the smallest signals of the angel's presence bring him great joy lately, but nothing makes Galahad so happy as seeing Beelzebub laugh or smile. He turns his head to watch his lover from across the room for a moment, one ear still trained on Belial's words as the angel speaks to him.

"He means well. I think he's been more excitable than usual lately." Which is a mild description for both Beelzebub's wrath and the carousing and excitement happening at the other end of the room. "I don't know if he has told your family, but we have plans to build a house together at the edge of the Wilds." The knight's face shines as he talks about the house-- the deed for the land is still only freshly settled in a drawer back at the inn, but part of him already feels as if their home is mere weeks from being in their grasp.

Belial shrugs at the question about the origin of the game. "I suspect the drunkenness."

"I'm not surprised." Belial can't see but Nychta is watching the knight beside him light up, and he can easily pick up on the wave of emotion that rolls off Beelzebub when he notices Galahad staring across the room. Even with the emotions he can feel and the glow to the human perceived by the hawk the commentary surprises him.

"A house?" Belial's brows go up momentarily in surprise. Out of all the angels he could imagine settling down in a house with a human, Beelzebub might be among the last, nearly so. It makes him curious about the human and what lead to such sway of the angel of war.

Is Belial about to start asking about the house? Because Galahad is beyond thrilled to tell him all about it.

"Aye, the spot for it's about a twenty minute walk from here. 'Tis a big plot right on the edge of the Wilds that also borders a pond. We haven't fully drawn out plans yet, but we have a lot of ideas for what we want the house to have in it. Big rooms and spaces so Beelzebub can fit comfortably with his wings, at the very least!"

Belial can sense the surge of emotion long before the flood of words starts. He's not sure what to make of it, War in a domestic love affair. He wonders how the fieriness of an angel mixes with a virtuous knight, or he assumes that is the case. Nychta looks over at Galahad curiously as his partner angel. Belial didn't think he was corrupted. It was odd to say the least. He listens good natured and interested, trying to imagine his drunken brother involved in anything like the seeming woodland farmhouse that the knight seems to be suggesting.

"I'm surprised." He admits as the hawk finally stops staring at Galahad. "Out of all my brothers and sisters I wouldn't have expected Beelzebub to build a house."

Those weren't the best words but he was still working over the energy change in the man before him. "I assume this is the reason for all the animals."

"One of the reasons, aye. We have rooms at one of the Nexus inns right now, but they have always been on the small side-- even more so now that we have as many animals as we do. Getting outdoor pens and hutches is going to take care of our space problem, we think." And allow them to get even more animals, but that's secondary in Galahad's mind to making sure the creatures they do have are healthy and living well.

The knight smiles softly as Belial mentions that Beelzebub is the last person he'd have thought to settle down. "I do think he is still settling into the idea." Even after jumping in headfirst. "I think it will take some getting used to for both of us." But Galahad has full faith that it'll work out for them.

Edited 2020-03-05 15:50 (UTC)

The more he listens, the more he can imagine why these two are together. He can hear the innate care in what the knight is saying that probably meshes well with Beelzebub's sense of Brotherhood.

As if the thought called him his brother showed up, more drunk than Belial had seen him in awhile. The angel expected he was about to be harassed into the game. The truth was very different. The mental connections between Beelzebub and Belial are very strong and the emotions he feels surging off his brother as he picks up the knight raises his brows. He doesn't need to see to know.

Belial simply watches through the hawk's eyes and his own experince of the feelings. He can't help smiling. He waits politely for the meeting and the knight to regain himself after the heated but brief meeting. "I wasn't aware you were erastís."

By the time Beelzebub's gone and Galahad's on his feet again, the knight's flushing and fluttery from having been picked up and kissed in public. Despite himself, he smiles after Bee as the angel ambles off again. It's hard not to follow after the other man's progress with glowing looks, especially when the knight is in as good of a mood as he is tonight.

Belial's words catch his attention again though, and Galahad turns that same smile on the angel beside him instead.

"Erastís?"

"Lovers." Belial is still observing the situation through hawk eyes and his other senses with curiosity and it shows in his expression. "To the Greeks which we lived among a long time ago, it is specifically a name given to a younger man taken as a lover by a battle skills mentor, military commander, or teacher of tactics."

It seemed the most fitting term for the situation as far as the angel was concerned, even if it was indirectly just War taking a human warrior, a knight, as a lover.

If Belial had started with 'lovers' and stopped there, Galahad would have agreed. As it is, though, he finds he can't really disagree with the rest of the offered description.

"I suppose it can be a little like that sometimes. Beelzebub has been teaching me how to defend myself against angels." He rubs at one of his cheeks self-consciously, as if that might help massage away some of the blush from his skin. "But I think we're equals in a lot of ways, too-- or we each treat each other that way. He's given me the name 'Gerval'."

Edited 2020-03-06 18:41 (UTC)

"He's war and you're a warrior." Belial clarifies his thinking. There's no judgement in the tone or behavior of Lucifer's counselor, though the interest in discussion is obvious.

Few things surprise Belial at the point but the name is enough to at least get a inquiring half smile and cocked brow. "He's given you a celestial angelic name?"

It wasn't customary to bestow an angel name on a mortal but then Beelzebub wasn't known for thinking before speaking or doing what he wanted

"He oversees a lot of my daily life and duties by nature of what he is? Is that what you mean?" Galahad considers that for a moment. He supposes it is more or less true.

"Aye, he has. It's beautiful. Your language has a smooth sound to it that I've never heard replicated in any earthly languages." But Galahad mostly likes it because it's yet another thing that ties him and Beelzebub together and serves as a token of their love.

"In a way, yes." Belial isn't sure how to explain much more beyond that.

"Enochian is the language of God." The angel expounds. "It is the language used by Lucifer and God to speak to each other before the universe began, and it is now the language of the angels."

This wouldn't be Galahad's first Skeksis, but this one is larger and more brightly colored than skekGra, with flashier clothing. skekSa the Mariner tips her feathered cap in Galahad's direction as she approaches him.

"Must be hard keeping charge of this rabble." She shakes her feathered head, but her tone and smile suggest affection for the "rabble". "She offers him a clawed hand for a shake or arm clasp, whichever he felt like. "Captain skekSa, at your service."

Edited 2020-02-17 01:41 (UTC)

Ben's a little wary around the angels - not for any personal reasons, he only knows Lucifer and even then just a little. He's just well aware that they outstrip him on the power scale and doesn't want to get on their bad sides. He's not usually the kind to attend parties, either, but he made a promise to socialize more in the Nexus. So here he is, catching a break from the game to approach one of the judges. Galahad seems like one of the more sensible people in the room right now.

"So, you're one of the people they put in charge of keeping things in order. Can't say I envy you. Lucifer's crew must be quite the crowd. People seem to like them, though I don't know any of them well myself." He offers a hand. "Ben Solo."

Things tend to get wild when the angels come together, Ben notices. At least the council chamber's pretty. He's one of the people who hasn't touched Beelzebub's alcohol, so he can't make any calls on its taste.

One drunken angel this way.

How could he resist this particular target for the dare? Galahad is another one that gets no warning as the stumbling, drunken angel scoops him up out of his chair laughing. He sways a bit trying to keep his footing and having the much smaller man in a bridal carry. The shock probably doesn't even pass before he's getting a kiss on the lips, just a little drunkenly messy.

Galahad is in the middle of chatting merrily with Belial when he's suddenly being approached and unceremoniously swept up into the air. The knight's surprise is such that he flails a bit as he tries to steady himself, his arms flying out to wrap around Beelzebub's neck for support.

"B-Beelzebmmmf--??" It's a surprisingly passionate kiss for how drunk the angel is, and Galahad's left a bit breathless when the other man pulls away. Despite himself, his heart flutters excitedly in his chest and a flush rises high on his cheeks almost at once. This is definitely surprising and a bit embarrassing in public, but not unpleasant. "What are you-- i-is this the game?"

He has to laugh at the muffled sound of this name.

"Yes... no?" He lets Galahad's feet back down, but that free hand just pulls him in for another kiss. He's not going to harass him too long but the angel couldn't resist a second kiss before heading to his next target.

The knight is ready for the second incoming kiss this time, and leans into it for a fond moment before they both part again. He can see Bee rocking and on the precipice of heading back into the fray for more fun, so he gives the other man a small encouraging pat on the hip to usher him on his way.

"Go ahead, cariad. Enjoy yourself and I'll see you later tonight."

Beelzebub playfully tries to return the pat to the hip, but drunkenness sets things awry. Missing the intended target and just a little harder than the intended action, turns the pat into a light smack on the ass. The angel is too drunk to completely comprehend the mistake, and just continues with his intention of finishing his dare.

"I'll come find you, Gerval."

Edited 2020-03-04 10:32 (UTC)

Galahad jumps slightly at the unexpected little swat to his rear, his cheeks flaring more brightly.

"...A-aye." An innocently drunken slip isn't worth scolding the angel over, so Galahad simply gives Bee a fond pat on the arm as the other man pulls away from him to leave. "Be good, all right?"

"No." Beelzebub whispers as he departs. Not that he plans on getting into more trouble than usual.

Belial is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

Belial is also acting as a judge to keep things from getting too far out of control.

Ben is probably going to regret doing this in the morning.

But for somebody with so many regrets in his life, what's one more added to the list?

Quicksilver strolls up to Ben. Smiles and gives a wave.

"Hi! I was dared to sing a song for someone. So enjoy the show..."

And then proceeds to sing (and dance) Michael Jackson's Thriller

Ben's internal thoughts are something roughly along the lines of What. That's not a song or style he knows, and he's not completely sure what to say.

But he wants to be polite, so he only smiles slightly and applauds. For all he knows he'll be asked to sing something in public, too.

"Thank you."

Cricket doesn't 100% understand this game. He gets the rules as they were explained, but the potential for it to go straight to Hell in a handbasket escapes him. He's already on the tipsy side, though, sprawled in his chair with a jar of blackberry moonshine.

The fact that Prometheus is some sort of judge here just makes him feel more sanguine about the whole idea.

Ben Solo chose Cricket partly because he seemed to be the most relaxed of the group. He's still intimidated by the angels - ironic for someone who once prided himself on being intimidating - and most of the people here are strangers. Cricket gives off an approachable feeling. The alcohol probably had something to do with it.

There are a lot of drunk people here. Ironically, Ben isn't one of them. This is good old-fashioned Questionable Decision-Making.

"Hello. I'm Ben." He greets the stranger politely, but quickly. "Truth or dare?"

Cricket does sort of project un-intimidating-ness, especially right now as he's slouched in his chair sideways, one arm draped across the back, looking contentedly drowsy. Anyway, he has a friendly smile and nod for a probably-human stranger that looks roughly his age (older, maybe, but close enough). "Hey, Ben," he greets mildly. "Cricket Pate."

He offers a handshake. Ben has no way of knowing how long it took Cricket to be capable of referring to people by their first names instead of 'sir' and 'ma'am' all the time. "Ain't seen you around before; welcome, I guess?"

Straightening a little, he sets his jar aside and chooses: "Truth!" That's probably better for getting to know someone.

"That's because I'm new. Hey, Cricket." Ben nods and parrots the greeting, politely but quickly. He'll probably always be more than a little awkward at parties, between his personality and his history, but Cricket clearly doesn't know who he is. And he's kind of having a little fun despite himself.

He takes the offered hand and shakes it. He knows how that works, at least.

"Truth. Good choice." There's a moment's thought, and Ben's eye catches the moonshine. "Let's say you had to go out for a drink with someone here. Any one of us. Who would it be?"

"Glad to meet you, then," his smile is completely open and sincere. "You need anything to settle in, you can call me. I'll...I don't know, I don't have a pen but I'll give you my PINpoint number later."

Terminally friendly, this kid.

Oh, but that's a good question! Cricket smiles. "Honestly, ain't a person in here I wouldn't drink with, so far's I know--" (Granted, he hasn't met Moloch yet.)

"But if I'm gonna choose one, it's gotta be him." He points at Beelzebub across the room. "'Cause I reckon I owe him one anyway. I sell the stuff and sales are up a lot since he got here. He's the angel of getting drunk, far as I can tell."

"Now, Harley or Thor would be a close second," he feels compelled to add. "She's a good friend. But Harley can't get drunk anyway, so I'mma stick with the angel."

"That's a generous offer. I wouldn't mind taking you up on that, once the game's finished."

Ben likes this boy's bravery. Granted, he doesn't know who Ben used to be or any reason why he should fear him, but it's still brave to reach out to a stranger like that - even one who wasn't a recovering galactic warlord. A little extra help settling in wouldn't hurt. Ben's found himself a temporary place to live but still needs a proper home.

"I don't know many of the angels, though I can guess who that one might be." Lucifer had mentioned a war commander who came by the Nexus, and that angel looks like he's armed for battle. An incredibly powerful war commander who's constantly drunk. That's...not a risky combination at all.

Ben only knows Lucifer, and not well, though he was willing to ask him for help once (if indirectly, and because he had no better plan). Honestly, the angels intimidate him a little with their sheer power and presence.

"Harley. She's a good choice." Ben's met Harley - she was one of the first people to welcome him to the Nexus. He doesn't know her well enough to consider her a friend, but she was kind to him, and he's not going to forget that.

Beelzebub is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

[Well this is a look, isn't it? The angel's going to get a quick elevator gaze from Dorian from a few paces away as the immortal processes the apparent gladitorial armor the angel's treating everyone at the party to. Resident party animal warrior angel, he supposes?

Beyond that, Dorian can definitely appreciate someone who looks just about as drunk as he feels, and as into the party as he himself is. Beelzebub seems like fun, which is more than enough to make this particular immortal approach.]

Lord Beelzebub, isn't it? [The smile he offers is genial, if tipsy.] Dorian Gray. The Lady Amartolosa gave me your name-- it's a pleasure to meet you.

Truth or dare?

[This angel, when stared at, can feel it at a distance. He turns to face Dorian as soon as the look over starts. Drunk or not his battle sense never dulled.

Given the dress and appearance he has a good idea of who he is looking at across the room.]

Yes. [Beelzebub smiles at the name because he was right. This is someone he's legitimately curious about and he looks drunk enough to get talking. But first the game.]

Dare. [It comes without hesitation, partially from Beelzebub's own curiosity about what others might dare angels to do.]

Up for a challenge, I see. Not bad. [A grin splits Dorian's face, as he considers his options. He doesn't know anything about this angel, but based on what he's come to expect from the ones he does know, he knows he can dare them to do things that humans wouldn't be able to accomplish.

He seriously considers having Beelzebub treat everyone nearby to a feat of strength, but then decides it'll be more fun to give him something that involves the other party-goers milling about.]

I dare you to go about the party and pick up three different people. Arms about them however you like, but their feet have to leave the ground. [He raises a finger.] In addition, the three people can be anyone you like, but you can't explain what you're there to do before you do it.

[Beelzebub listens to the instructions laughing.]

"You make easy dares." [Sure, he's drunk but he wouldn't care anyway. He shoves the pitcher of angel wine into Dorian's hands before trying to shake off the drunkenness.]

"I'll be right back." [His first target is the king who he gets a drink. Then his lover. The last target Bee takes a little more time with before returning to Dorian. He unceremoniously takes his pitcher back and takes a huge drink from it.]

"Done"

[Dorian watches the angel's progression around the room, chuckling at the different, but equally amusing sights of Beelzebub picking up his chosen targets in turn. The surprise on the second young man's face raises Dorian's eyebrows, and he watches, curious and entertained as the pair kiss like lovers.

Boyfriends, perhaps? He has to admit that the pair seem to make an unexpected match, with Beelzebub jovial as he is and dressed in a manner not unlike a gladiator, and his apparently lover being almost fully covered up and mild-mannered in comparison.]

Well done. [The immortal applauds lightly, the expression genuine and entertained rather than ironic.] You went beyond the scope of the dare. [Dorian offers the pitcher of wine back over to the angel when he returns.] Although some might argue that choosing your own lover is, as the kids these days would say, 'easy mode'.

[Not that Dorian blames him, exactly. The young man seems charming, and was clearly very happy about having the angel's company even for the few short moments he did.]

Edited 2020-03-04 14:24 (UTC)

Ward's never subtle. [Beelzebub laughs at the accusation, proud and obviously affectionate.] He's a celibate knight in the service of God.

[He didn't usually Peacock about this aspect of his relationship with Galahad, but there had been some risk given the knight's usual demand for things to stay private. There was no small amount of pride attached to feeling worth enough to bend a vow to God. Besides, there had been a thrill to kissing him in front of everyone else.]

A knight of God and a fallen angel? [This is Dorian's eyebrows rising further, his expression curious.] That sounds like a story. How did you meet?

[Beelzebub's brows just raise mischievously at the first question. There's a quality that a lot of the angels where there is amused pride to simple troublemaking that pleases them. This angel is no exception.]

A drunken bar brawl with someone wielding a holy sword. [The angel starts laughing again.] He tried to stop the fighting.. I think.

[Beelzebub's jovial disposition is contagious, and Dorian smiles as the angel laughs at his own words. Even in the Nexus he doesn't meet warriors like this very often, so this is a unique encounter for him.]

That sounds about like what someone could expect from a Christian knight. [Dorian punctuates with a sip from the glass in his hand.] You both seem very happy together.

Truth was there probably were very few if any like Beelzebub. He had heard others talk about thier own world's Beelzebub and even those were very different.

"He drank so much he didn't remember everything." The Angel's eyes naturally drift back to his lover and brother deep in conversation. Even across the room Galahad makes him happy. "It's challenging, but we are."

Well, since Ben brought up the matter of who Cricket would drink with, it occurs to the young bootlegger he probably should pay his respects to his indirect benefactor. He hasn't brought anything special with him, or he'd offer Beelzebub a jar, but after a little while of playing (and noting that really, the angel's had plenty), he decides to come talk with him anyway.

"H'lo," he greets, just slightly shy in spite of being on the far side of tipsy, himself. "This ain't no truth or dare question, but while I'm thinkin' about it, sir, you'd be welcome to visit my stills sometime, on account of how we have some overlapping interests and I probably owe you a thank-you."

To say Beelzebub is drunk would be a glorious understatement. He's wavering and certainly not able to walk a straight line. No one needs to tell the angel of drunkenness when he's talking to a maker. He's pleased with the invite. "I should come bless it."

However, he does have angel brandy he's drinking out of a pitcher that he offers to Cricket. "I've drank more than my fair share of yours in the bars."

Cricket can't help but grin. He's lived in the Nexus for over a year and sometimes he still has to take a step back and marvel at the wonders around him. Never before has anyone from Franklin County seen a drunk angel.

"If you want to, sir, I'd appreciate it. Can use all the help I can get. I built the setup from the ground up. Wouldn't have been able to without Harley givin' me a place to live, but...I think I've done a'ight."

He's justifiably proud of his small business, is what he's saying.

He blinks at the offer and peers into the pitch curiously. It would be rude to say no, but he has to keep in mind that he's human and delicate, so he accepts the pitcher but asks before drinking: "Is this...stronger than the usual human stuff? Only I don't want my liver to run off scared."

He'll limit himself to a tiny taste if need be.

"Some of us keep others drunk on your shine." He couldn't remember, nor count, how many humans had gotten trashed on it, and it was Aziraphale that introduced him to it. There was an angelic booze train this human wasn't aware of.

"Your liver and head might run if you take more than a shot or two." Beelzebub laughs."Angel brandy made by Lucifer."

Cricket couldn't be prouder, though he's not aware of the angelic booze train yet. His feelings on drunkenness are pretty neutral, ranging to positive; liquor can certainly get the better of a man in the long-term and that's bad, but most of the time it harms no one and it's fun. Even his Great Aunt Winnie liked a drink at the end of the day. "Glad to hear it suits so well, sir. Looking forward to fresh fruit coming in in the spring so I can make a few other flavors."

'More than a shot or two' sounds like he's safe to taste it, so Cricket gives him a smile and a determined little nod and takes a swallow. Just a mouthful, but he doesn't flinch at the burn, just hands the pitcher back carefully. If all the Fallen Angel parties are like this he kinda wants to come to more of them.

"I'll come when you're starting a new batch." He's definitely one for blessing production and consumption, something a couple of his favorite bars around the Nexus have already had.

Beelzebub takes back the pitcher with a proud grin at the lack of flinch. "No surprise a shiner can hold his liquor."

It's a compliment. Though, truth is, this is a tame party for the angels. Everyone is still reasonably dressed and there hasn't even been a hint of a fight.

Ian is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

"Hey hey hey! It is Doc 3.14159!" Harley waves down Ian, who now has a new nickname thanks to a dare from Cricket.

"So... Truth or Dare?"

"Dr. Pi?" Ian laughs good-natured.

"Dare." Though he hopes she keeps his leg brace and cane in mind when she gives him a task.

"I dare you to make up a song based off a scientific equation... and sing it to three other people."

He pauses a little surprised, but he has a background in jazz improve. Surely he could come up with something. "This may take some time."

He wanders off and gets a glass of whiskey while thinking through an idea. Once he has one he starts looking for topics.

He stops by and sings to what may be the most beautiful woman in the room, a drunk, and a young man who seems bored..

Then he returns to Harley. "That was challenging."

"You did really good. Great job!" Harley claps her hands in appreciation.

"Thank you." He grins at her. "If my daughter was here you would have made her night hearing me sing that song."

Deet is 99% sure Thnisko isn't going to be involved in this. There is too much noise going on. But most of his family is here and she has yet to see any indication they're not her friends, too (obviously not as close friends as Thnisko is, but still!), and anyway it'd be good to get to know everyone better, so this is definitely a great idea!

"Deet!" skekGra gets himself mostly under control, urGoh at his side. The Heretic approaches his Gelfling friend, a smile on his toothy beak. He's pleased to see her here. There's a good mix of familiar faces and strangers. More people to meet! He should attend these get-togethers more often.

"Truth or dare?" At least that's how he thinks the rules go.

Deet grins, as happy to see them as they appear to be to see her. She reaches over to pat SkekGra's arm as a hello and gives UrGoh a gentle nose-boop, in high spirits. "Yes! Hello!"

She's excited. It takes her a minute to decide if she wants Truth or Dare, though, swinging her feet in her chair and frowning. "I think...Dare, please."

"Hello, Deet! I dare you..." skekGra thinks for a while, scratching the nail in his head with a claw. He doesn't want to embarrass Deet too badly, but he wants to give her something. "...to kiss urGoh on the snout."

The Mystic looks startled, but shuffles forward. He smiles slightly, in his slow urRu way. He's enjoying the game, too.

Honestly, she trusts them not to ask her to do anything humiliating. Her standards are pretty relaxed, though; she feels she's among friends.

She blinks at the dare, then giggles. "I thought that was your job," she tells skekGra, but there's no shyness when urGoh comes forward.

"It's all right with you?" She double checks with the Mystic, but the smile seems to indicate he doesn't mind, so she rises up on her knees in the chair she's in and leans over to kiss the top of his snout. It's not unlike kissing one of her fathers on the cheek, except that urGoh smells much more strongly of urdrupe berries.

"Do I get to ask you now?" She smiles at SkekGra. "That's how it works, isn't it?"

"Yes! That's how the game goes. It's your turn to ask me Truth or Dare."

Judging from the way urGoh is smiling, he liked the kiss. He shuffles back to let skekGra talk to Deet. The round isn't over yet. Now it's their turn, and their trust is shared. skekGra is hard to embarrass, though.

He likes this game, he decides as he wonders what Deet will come up with. urGoh looks a little nervous, thinks the Heretic, but that's probably because the Mystic is somewhat less comfortable around crowds.

"Make...it a...good one." urGoh gives Deet a sly look. Maybe he wasn't so nervous after all.

Giggle! "Truth or dare, then, skekGra?" She has an idea for Truth already, but Dare has so many possibilities in a room with this many people.

"But my dare was so nice, I wouldn't want to be mean to him," she tells urGoh with a wink.

"Hmmm! Good question!" skekGra thinks over the options. Neither one is bad, and he's curious what Deet would come up with for both. He trusts her not to ask something too probing or embarrassing.

"Truth!" He wants to try something other than Dare, and he is curious about what Deet would ask him.

"Truth!" She's delighted by this choice. "Perfect! I want you to answer...what are your two favorite things about urGoh. Either physical features or personality, whatever you like."

"And I know you're not officially playing urGoh but if you answer about skekGra, I'll make you both some moss-cakes."

Moss-cakes: Better than they sound, she promises.

"My two favorite things about urGoh? Well...he put up with me for 379 trine, so clearly he's got all the patience of a Mystic. But more seriously, he was there for me when we were tortured and banished by the other Skeksis. He was my only friend...and then we became more than friends."

Since skekMal and skekSa weren't present during the Heretic's banishment, they're the only Skeksis he didn't feel betrayed him. He's got his grudges against the Hunter now, though he respected him once. Both of them shared a distaste for Castle politics and idle talk. It was saddening to realize what skekGra and his fellow Skeksis - his former friends and brothers-in-arms, some of them - had fallen to become, and how skekGra was the only one who wanted to redeem himself.

urGoh gently puts one of his arms around the Heretic to comfort him in his slow way. "I...like skekGra...for his...personality. He keeps...things interesting...for me. And for...the second...he...taught me...about change."

Death was around, hanging out of the way and staying out of the games. It was the familiar presence that brought him out to blindly navigate the crowd. It wasn't easy, everything was loud but it was worth it.

Hello, Deet.

She senses him before he gets close, rising up to stand on the seat of her chair and lean against the back, which puts her...marginally closer to his face than usual. "Hello! I wasn't sure if you'd be here since it's all very...you know."

Deet doesn't mind loud parties, per se, but they're not really her normal habitat, either.

"Are you playing?"

Death cautiously approaches because if the chairs and people about. Though when he is close enough he reaches out for her hand and steps close to the chair. He's learned her size well enough to be accurate as he reaches for her.

I've been avoiding most people here. Have you played?

She takes hold willingly, holding his hand with both of hers. "I've played a little, yes. There was a skeksis here I didn't know, and I thought it would be a good place to see if she was friendly or not. I think she's all right."

"I was thinking of asking other people but I don't want to get stepped on so I might just wait until they come close to me. Do you want to play? You can even ask me first, if you like."

I can take you to others."

He considers, but if he was going to choose anyone to play this game with, Deet is the one would trust.

Truth or Dare?

It's not so much that she's actively trying to coax Death out of his shell. Deet just wants to make sure he has the opportunity to step out of his shell if he wants to, and intends to stand right there with him the whole way.

She considers the question and concludes there wouldn't be much point in Truth. As close as they've let their minds mesh, she doesn't have many secrets from him. "Ohh...Dare, please!"

Death isn't ready to socialize but he will come out to see some individuals despite crowds. Deet happens to be one of them. What to dare Deet to do? The thoughtfulness fills the thread between thier minds.

I dare you to....share a food or drink here that you've never tried with someone you haven't met yet." Death really isn't one to dare something outrageous because he wouldn't be comfortable himself with such a dare.

She waits patiently while he thinks it over, giving a contented little hum at the pensive calm filling their mental connection. When he makes his decision, she grins. "Oh, that sounds fun! Give me just a moment, I'll go find someone."

And she will share the memory via Dreamfasting when she returns. There is, however, a slight chance she'll come back tipsy, depending what she ends up tasting.

Death has moved out of the center of the room while she is away for his own comfort. He knows Deet will be able to find him wherever he is in the room.

If she does return tipsy he wouldn't be surprised. He knows his brethren from both sides, and thier near universal love if drinking. He's grateful for her willingness to share as much as he is that she is meeting others.

He pauses and then offers, despite it being a breach of the rules. You can ask me whichever you'd prefer.

Even with the dreamfasting there was a lot she didn't know, or he hadn't shared. With so many memories, even the speed telepathy allowed didn't give enough time to share even a fraction of them.

Mammon wasn't interested in playing the game at hand, but he was social. The number of new beings, or new to him, in the villa at the moment intrigued the angel. He had watched for some time, metallic gold wings with their silver down were relaxed. This was the kind of environment he appreciated. He dressed rather subdued for his usual flash in white and red with opals and other whitish gems embroidered into the cuffs and collar. When he stepped out into the room it was a well dressed man that caught his attention. He could see that he was close with the angels and probably aligned with Mammon's own spheres if he relied on first impressions.

Mammon approached with dignity and confidence. He was a trader and used to being an asset. He had no reason to bend to others, but he also bore a politeness necessary for business.

"Good evening." He offers as he stops, close but comfortably respectful of personal space. He notes the lack of drink in the other immortals hands. "You should join us in a drink."

There always seem to be more angels than Dorian ever has the proper amount of time to greet. Still, it intrigues him to be approached by one he hasn't met even in passing before. The immortal's gaze roams approvingly over the shining stones stitched into the well-dressed man's outfit, before tracking up to the angel's pretty face. He's learned that experiences with angels can be a crapshoot sometimes, but this man's elaborate appearance and shining wings hook Dorian's curiosity, as well as give him a sense that they may at least have an interest in fashion and minerals in common.

"Happily. Although I may start with the regular wine for now. It's still early in the evening for the angelic vintage," he jokes lightly. Dorian flashes Mammon the same sociable smile he's shown everyone else tonight: toothy, and with an air of giving the person he's speaking with the full weight of his attention. "Dorian Gray. And you are?"

The roving gaze gets returned by the angel, curious as always about others. Mammon had a way of seeing things about the worth of people and things at a glance. Unlike the approving gaze of the other man, his gaze is more critical. The blue eyes so unnatural to seem a shining sky blue. He's appraising the person like one would an antique or a diamond. It isn't cold or offensive but intense.

"I would avoid the angelic spirits offered tonight." Mammon comments because he knows they are drinking what is strong for angels. Even he had to watch if he partook or Mammon might end up prostrate and comatose somewhere, which would be completely undignified. "Lord Mammon."

He will shake hands if offered but he wasn't one to engage first. His calculating nature and pride set him to see what others would do when left to their own devices. His gaze has finally settled on Dorian's face. "Do you prefer red or white?"

Shaking hands is customary and polite enough that Dorian will offer the angel his own to take. Mammon extending him his hand is another good opportunity to get a look at the unique design on the cuff of the other man's outfit. And why shouldn't he? As far as Dorian's concerned, beautiful things are meant to be looked at and admired.

"Tonight I'll have a red, if you please." Whether Mammon summons someone to fetch him a glass or goes to offer him one himself, Dorian will follow the angel to wherever he ends up. When it's offered, he accepts the glass of wine. "I couldn't help but notice your tailoring and designs on your sherwani. It's unique. Is this something you made or commissioned yourself?"

Mammon does take his hand firmly to shake once it is offered. His body is cool, like stone might. It is easy enough to call a glass of red wine in a exquisitely etched wine glass. It may appear to be crystal but is in fact made of volcanic glass as many things from Chaos. With his ability for assessment he can easily choose a wine suitable to the man's tastes just from Dorian's appearance and carriage.

"Azazael and Phenex are the court tailors." He informs as the wine glass is taken from him. He then calls his own smaller glass of similar make, but he prefers strong middle eastern coffee to alcohol. "The adornments were liberated from the ground and cut by my hands."

Dorian sips at the wine offered to him in its pretty glass, privately appreciating the taste of it. He probably shouldn't be surprised that an angel has managed to offer him something that he likes without getting more information from him than that he'd wanted red wine.

"You mine and cut gems for recreation?" Interesting, if so.

Mammon relaxes into drinking his coffee, sipping it and delighting in the hot bitter quality.

"I am a spirit of civilization." Mammon answers but then continues figuring that the immortal before him might want more given how his gaze had fallen on the bead work. "I oversee all manner of wealth and economics."

Civilization, wealth, and economics? As he mulls the angel's words over, Dorian's gaze briefly crosses the room to Lucifer where the angel stands in conversation with Balthazar. The more angels he meets, the less like a rebel army and more like a resident pantheon the group as a whole seem to Dorian. Taking another sip of wine, the immortal's attention tracks back to Mammon again.

"That seems like a considerable responsibility for one angel." Not that he doubts that Mammon has some kind of appropriate powers to manage it. "I've done a little of that myself. Not on as grand a scale, of course, but I was an investment banker in the 90s. The maths of monies and economics interest me. There's a great pleasure in understanding the rules and ways the market works to reap benefits from it."

Edited 2020-03-02 21:27 (UTC)

Mammon watches where his gaze moves and is intrigued to see it stop so long on the kings. It is definitely a piece of information to investigate later in the conversation or after the guests disperse and only his brothers and sisters remain.

"Oversee may not be the best word for your understanding." He admits as Dorian begins to speak. He does wait patient and attentive to finish his point when the other man is done speaking. "We are not responsible for our spheres but they exist because we do. Our energy is the energy that brings it to be and moves the currents. My presence is what allows the ebb and flow of economics, wealth, and with my brothers the rise and fall of civilizations, dynasties and people."

Mammon pauses to see if understanding has been reached between the two. For someone who isn't an angel the concepts can be difficult to grasp.

"So," Dorian says, his tone taking on a playful lilt, "the next time the market improves and my stock portfolio starts doing well I should be thanking you?"

The angel's brow cocks up briefly before sipping his coffee. Mammon was many things but he had a taste for manipulation and mind games that were so much part of trade and the black market. "It would depend on how you would thank an angel for your good fortune. Occasionally, favors can be won, or bribes well received."

That earns an appreciative chuckle as Dorian sips at his glass of wine again. Yes, this angel certainly has a handsome face when he smiles like that. The obvious intelligence isn't bad, either. "Well, what kinds of gifts do you like to receive from people seeking your favor? Or is it up to us to make an effort and either succeed or not on our own merits?"

He laughs in return, high and musical because he didn't make a complete effort to hide his angelic voice, it was better for manipulation. "It's a poor bribe if I have to come up with the offer?"

Mammon is both playful and serious in his commentary. "The best bribes are finding things the target desperately wants but didn't know they wanted it until your offer is in their hands."

"That's the trick, isn't it? I'll admit that I pride myself on being a good gift-giver, but beings like you --and me, to a lesser extent-- add an extra challenge-- hypothetically speaking." He punctuates with another short sip of wine, his eyes lingering on the rim of the unusual glass with its fine etchings. "I've seen Lucifer produce things with the same ease that humans breathe air. I know all of you have different abilities, but when it comes down to it, anything any of you wants is within your reach to have. Add your immortality and the time you've been alive on top-- well. Is there anything any of you desperately want that you couldn't have easily?"

Edited 2020-03-02 23:11 (UTC)

"Boredom comes to those who avoid challenges." Mammon truly believed that as well. Most of the angels sought out challenging situations. "That is the trick. What is wanted by someone who appears to have everything? Everyone wants something, some are honest, or make you guess, or lie."

"If I had to guess? The kinds of things that people who either have or can have everything want are personal. Emotional. Intangible. Either that, or I'd guess that they crave an experience of some kind."

"For some." Mammon glanced around the room at the other angels and grew thoughtful. "A blanket statement is ill advised with the variability long lifespans. Expanses of time breed both stability and extreme variability."

He knew that it sound like he was being vague but it was an honest answer. Time worked oddly on people, diverging them and consolidating at the same time. "Not everyone will accept what they want from everyone willing to offer either."

"True enough." Dorian can think of a few very specific charred bridges that he'd have trouble crossing now in such a way if it's what he desired to do. "That is what time does to us all, if nothing else. Produces eccentricity. Variability." If there's a wine bottle or other alcohol nearby, Dorian's going to reach over and refill his now-empty glass.

"I was speaking from a self-referential perspective when I supposed that immortals might crave the personal or intangible, or an experience."

There is likely wine around, with how heavily most of the angels drink.

"It is true of some, though materialism and greed can continue into eternity. I've seen both commonly enough in my time. I think you have the same desire as most angels, gods and other immortals are not always as open to unknown experiences."

"I have certain advantages that allow me to take risks that others might not be able to do so freely."

Dorian smiles at Mammon at the mention of endless materialism and greed, watching him closely. "Do you desire gems and minerals endlessly? Currency?"

Edited 2020-03-03 00:23 (UTC)

"What advantage is that?" Mammon asks with genuine curiosity.

"No. Not particularly." Mammon comments. "I am a trader by nature. What I have fluctuates, though I do ensure the currency for Chaos is minted and maintained."

There's no harm in sharing this aspect of himself with the angels, Dorian reasons, because he's reasonably sure some of them already know-- Sin and Lucifer definitely do, at least. "I heal immediately from any physical slights my body may suffer. That, and I can die and resurrect without issue." He'll leave out the part about his lack of a soul and the extra benefits that confers, but given how Lucifer was able to tell he didn't have one simply by being near him, it may or may not be pointless to withhold this particular truth from any of the angels. "I still feel pain, but as you can probably imagine, being able to heal and resurrect takes away a lot the dangers of living an immortal life that ordinary humans, or immortals that can die from physical wounds wouldn't be able to face as easily."

That surprises Dorian a little. From the careful and elegant way the angel is dressed, he would have figured him for someone who enjoyed such material objects-- the gems, at least. "No? So, if I'm understanding you, it's the value of those objects and how they're used that you like?"

Mammon hadn't cared to look to closely at the state of Dorian, only a casual overview of his presence, the immortality. True, if he wished he could delve in and see the lack of soul. However, as an archangel and him specifically, the sense of those things required active looking. "Then you are much like our kind in those respects."

It wasn't surprising to hear, and made his presence fall into place. The similar method of living and not dying could be a unifying characteristic across immortals. "Yes. However, I am not without favored things in what I do have. Everyone has objects and other items that are too valuable, though perception or personal reasons, to be traded away or sold without great pressure or offering."

"Others in your family have said the same thing." And it has taken Dorian a while to agree, but he does now. He does think it's interesting, though, that yet another angel doesn't hesitate to pull him within the venn diagram of 'like us' where the Fallen are concerned.

"So they do. What is it you favor, then?" The angel has been a little cagey, either deliberately or not, on this point so far. It's left Dorian wondering if he'll tell him now.

"I can only assume that you have shared qualities with them that they also see in our kind." Mammon was completely neutral on the idea but there were, at least some, similarities between whatever type of immortal Dorian was and a fallen angel.

"Information?" Then the angel smiles and it grows until he laughs. "I've always favored the gold gilded walkways and spires of heaven; encrusted with fine gems. The hypocrisy of that being the request of a God who speaks of the sin of avarice as one of the greatest evils has a pleasant feeling to it. His throne too laden with gems and gold."

"The same that I just shared with you." Dorian issues a short, amused huff, as he remembers telling both Sin and Lucifer separately about this particular ability. All of the angels either seem to like, or seem compelled by, drawing parallels between him and themselves. "Your kind seem to like consolidating immortals and their favored humans among themselves-- collecting, one might even say." A beat, as he looks indicatively around the party. "And by the looks of this party, you've all done an impressive job of it."

The comment about God's throne gets a short, cynical laugh from the immortal. "So it's less of the walkways and throne themselves, but your own amusement at God's hypocrisy?"

"And what kinds of information interest you? Or do you not discriminate?"

"We fell long before humans and those of Earth were created." Mammon shrugged joining Dorian's gaze considering the party goers. "... but we were intended to watch over and aid humanity. Without the gates of heaven holding us at a distance it's not surprising to see from any of the fallen." Mammon grinned as a sidelong gaze settled on Dorian. "The benefits are mutual from the what I have noted of the collection, a thing you've taken advantage of yourself in the bed and favor of royalty among us."

The angel was merely calling attention to the fact that the one talking about collecting had at one point or was still part of the collection he spoke about. Mammon knew about Sin, she was clearly fond of this immortal, and the gaze on Lucifer earlier drew curiosity.

"The walkways and structures of heaven are indeed of a splendor and glory worthy of envy, but it is amusing to know God is as far from His own laws as we are, maybe farther."

"Everything has potential worth. Knowing is always better than remaining ignorant."

Dorian's drinking continues, with another thoughtful sip of wine taken as he listens to Mammon. A smile tugs at his lips again as the angel points out his entanglement with his family. The other man isn't wrong about that, and Dorian can't deny the truth of it either. He'll always consider himself his own man to a certain degree, but this is the most time he's spent in close contact with a group of the same people in a while.

"'Taking advantage of' is a strong way to put it," Lucifer might see it that way now, but Dorian doesn't know for sure. He wonders if Sin does. "Would your family see it that way with regards to themselves?" His eyebrows rise as he watches the other man closely. It would be quite something to hear, if the angel really thinks it's the case.

"So you think of yourself as a scholar of everything and anything?"

Edited 2020-03-03 19:46 (UTC)

"Is it?" Mammon counters, more with curiosity than rhetoric. He continues, even toned and with acceptance. "We are ancient, even by the standards of gods. We understand that all initial contact is with someone who wants the benefits of our company. It may be as benign as simple curiosity or our reputation for sin and pleasure freeing people from thier culture's restrictions. Others may have more demanding benefits of protection, information, or coming at us with preconceived demands of what they want or expect from us."

Mammon paused to observe the man beside him. "Even when we initiate an interaction, as the more powerful component, we must be wary of others using us to thier benefit and our detriment."

He figures that is enough to say on that subject. "It is the natural condition when you reach a certain length of life."

Edited 2020-03-03 20:10 (UTC)

Dorian's smile grows --it's pleasant, polite, a little distant-- but inwardly he wonders how much he should say about this particular subject to an angel with an observant temperament like this one. Mammon reminds him of Death in this way, if seemingly more detached. A person like this is interesting to him, but someone worth watching his step around.

"That's why, in my home world, I take steps to guard my privacy." Which he knows isn't an option for the angels for many reasons, but Dorian's just trying to relate to Mammon and his family. "The powerful and the unusual attract attention, curiosity, people's desires--" A thoughtful beat. "For the record, I knew very little about any of your family members before I approached them."

That answer's a little vague in his estimation, so Dorian tries a different approach. "Do you like to read?"

Edited 2020-03-03 20:26 (UTC)

"We do too." Mammon agreed. "There are very few who know more about an angel than they wish you to see."

Dorian's comment gets a quiet laugh. "I find it hard to believe you knew little about the devil."

"We all do." Mammon's expression turned devious. "We're in a competition to see who can finish reading all the books in the library first."

"I know more than I ever wanted to about my Lucifer. But I wouldn't compare yours to him-- especially not after coming to know him better."

"Oh?" Somehow he's not surprised by this. "Who or what do you like to read, particularly?"

"You are friends with Lucifer?" He asks off hand. The glances from earlier lingering in his mind.

"We're competitive with each others sometimes." He mentions with a good humor. "Civilizations and culture."

"In a manner of speaking. Friendship is something of a complicated thing with me. I like him, certainly." Which is the version of his thoughts on it that he'll share with someone he doesn't know very well yet.

"Any particular authors? I've indulged in some non-fiction on those subjects in the past, but lately I mostly read fiction and poetry."

"Friendship is a complicated thing with our king, but you have his trust which means a lot to the other angels." Mammon is speaking rather neutrally.

"Malthus is morbidly fascinating, but in general, I will reading anything."

Dorian elevates at eyebrow slightly at that. The angel has been an ongoing fixation for the immortal for a few months now, which makes an opportunity for information or gossip difficult to resist. "In what sense?" Because while he can believe that Lucifer trusts him in some ways, the idea that the angel trusts him wholesale seems a bit laughable by this point. "And does that mean I have your trust?" Okay, that part might be mostly playful in tone-- but it also serves the purpose of lightening the air of the conversation and whatever intensity might leak through his curious questioning.

Trying to get conversation out of this angel is a bit like pulling teeth, and Dorian's starting to tire of putting in the effort on this front. "Malthus. I think I've heard of him. He was a scholar from the late 1700's, yes?"

Edited 2020-03-03 23:00 (UTC)

Mammon gives Dorian an incredulous glance. "You stay in his home with his daughter?"

It is halfway between a statement and a question. "Lucifer cherishes his privacy and his children. You appear to have access to both."

Mammon laughs. "If you earn it." It's a teasing sort of tone, as if challenging Dorian to gain his trust.

"Yes." Mammon affirms. "He wrote about the path to human extinction and population decimation. I find his bold discussion of human error and scolding tone in his essays refreshing. It's one of a handful of human texts that has directness with human destroying themselves."

But for how long, Dorian can't help but wonder. "I haven't exactly been subtle, I know," Dorian acknowledges with a smile.

"Oh? Is that what you think, then?" he asks, purely out of curiosity. "That we're destroying ourselves?"

"Subtlety is uncommon in our near orbit." Mammon comments. It was true to most who sought thier company.

"No. I like the forthright discussion of doom."

Well, he's never seen this person before so they seem like a good target. At least if he's embarrassed maybe he will never see them again. He even based the song he sings randomly at this guest on the nickname he was given during Harley's dare

This certainly is... interesting. Figuring that this is a dare, Dorian gamely watches the man's performance as he plugs his way through 100 digits of Pi. When Ian's done, the Dorian grins and applauds politely.

"Not bad." He punctuates with a sip of wine. "Did you come up with that this evening?"

"No." He admits. "I.. uh.. made it up.. oh.. a year or more ago for my daughter when she was sick."

Death is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

Sin is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

He's been dared to kiss people, and platonic kisses are expressly permitted. At that rate, he sort of suspects Amartolosa would be sad if she didn't get a kiss, so she is his first stop.

"Evening, darling," he greets, all smiles, and leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Happy whatever-we're-celebrating."

"Darling!" She returns the kiss and adds a hug. She laughs and pulls away.

"You've not known my father long. This happens all the time when we're in a good space." The grin she gets is huge. "Are you playing tonight?

"Not yet, I haven't," he admits. "But I have high hopes to keep knowing him forever, so I think it will even out eventually."

The grin on her face is a blatant danger signal, but Balthazar is inclined to put his dignity on the line and indulge it.

"I am! Kissing five people other than your father was part of it, and I was afraid you'd be insulted if I didn't start with you. But I'm available for another round of the game now, if you want to ask me."

"Father adores you. I don't think you've got anything to worry about."

She is glad to hear he will play. "Truth or dare?"

Astaroth is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

Loki is keeping out of this for the most part, hanging about the margins of the room. The opportunity that presents itself is too tempting to deny completely, though, and so somewhere in the middle of the evening he slides into the chair nearest Astaroth.

"Truth or dare?"

Honestly he's mostly doing this because he's curious what he'll be asked in return.

Astaroth is seated on a bar stool because chairs are uncomfortable when your legs are so long. He's drinking lightly and mostly listening to the truths others are saying, also seeing who interacts with whom. However, there is a genuine sort of smile when he sees Loki sit beside him. This should be interesting.

Astaroth wonders if it is fair to ask truth when he can lie so much. The curiosity though is too much.

"Truth."

An odd friendship these two are striking up, but a fitting one. At least Loki thinks so. He returns the smile with one of his own, taking up the barstool next to the angel and resting an elbow on the bar itself. Still annoying to be so much shorter, but he's starting to adapt to it.

"You and I both know the value of a lie," he says. "And conversely, the value of the truth. A story is often neither and both, fiction with a message that lies beneath it. Do you have a favorite story? If so, what is it?"

"Doesn't have to be true, or about you personally."

The angel takes time with this question. He's a collector of information. Stories were something that facinated Astaroth. The silence goes on for a long time before he finally looks over to address the God.

"Mythology related to constellations." He pauses and clarifies. "More so, the myths that a culture chooses to immortalize in thier sky. I find the way that defines morality to be fascinating."

It wasn't a specific answer, if pressed perhaps he could choose one, but for now it was the most truthful answer he could give.

Second stop for the kissing dare is also a no-brainer. He puts a hand on Peter's shoulder in greeting, so as not to startle him by sneaking up, then hugs him gently and kisses his forehead.

"That was for a dare," he says. "But I'm actually awfully happy to see you, either way. Having a good time?"

Peter turns to face the other man, and smiles when the Angel kisses his forehead.

"What is up with people daring others to kiss people today?"

"I am. How about you? Obviously you are already completing one dare."

Peninnah is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

Aziraphale is surprised at first to see Peninnah here, but he supposes that after the joint holiday party, she has grown more comfortable with Lucifer and his court. At any rate, he's delighted to see her, and takes the empty seat next to her so that he can greet her properly.

"Hello, my dear. How have you been doing? Are you participating in the game of truth-or-dare, or merely observing?"

Peninnah was just staring at the scene for the most part. She'd never seen this many angels in one place, and the scene was far more drunken than she was used to as well. To say it was an eye opening experience would be an understatement.

"Aziraphale!" She's truly happy to see the angel. "I'm finishing up the interior of the church. Did you have a good Christmas and New Years?" The mention of the game makes her blush. She's seen some things in this game already. "I've been watching. No one's asked me to play yet."

So far the scene reminds Aziraphale of parties he's attended in the past, minus all the celestial energy. At least for his part, he's only marginally tipsy, certainly in a decent enough state to keep his friend company.

"What do you have left to do?" he asks in regards to the interior of the church. "I had a wonderful holiday season, thank you. Crowley and I were away for a short while, but I've been resuming my research at the Grand Library. If there's anything you need, feel free to call on me."

He's surprised that no one's asked her to play, but perhaps her holy aura has dissuaded the fallen angels. "Well, truth or dare, then -- ah, if you'd like to participate, of course."

"My living space mostly." She smiles a little shyly. "I've never had a place of my own and I don't plan to have a priest in the church. I'm learning as I go."

Her eyes dance with happiness. "Oh, it is good to hear that you are both having a time of joy. You can come to see me as well. The Nexus has moved the Church again, but it's still near here. Lucifer and I have accepted our proximity."

"Oh." She pauses to think it over. "Truth? I don't know that I want a dare. I've seen children play games like this before."

"How delightful," he says with a warm smile. "It's good to have a space of your own. I've always kept a flat above my bookshop." Even if up until Crowley moved in, he mostly used it for book storage. "It doesn't sound like you need a priest if you'll be handling all the official duties."

Her happiness for him makes him blush and smile modestly. Yes, they've definitely been having some joy of the kissing and cuddling variety... ahem. "I'll stop by as soon as I can. I was wondering where it had moved off to. I'm glad that you're still near Lucifer. Don't tell him I said it, but I think it's good for him. We all need to get along with others in the Nexus."

"Truth it is." Which is a small relief as he has no idea what he'd dare her to do. A question, though? He's excellent at those. "Let's see... ah, here's one. What is something that you like to indulge in? Not for the sake of others, but for your own enjoyment?"

"I think it's better for the people here if the church stands without a priest." She comments. "Unless one shows up here that can be as unbiased as I am toward the visitors."

She smiles modestly as the conversation turns to Lucifer. "He seems kind despite the scriptures. It makes me wonder of his counterpart in my home. It's troubling to question my faith but it's worse to hold false witness against someone else."

She takes a long time considering Aziraphale's question. She didn't do much for herself and then she smiled broadly. "I spend time with Agatha. It makes her happy, too. Or singing."

"That'd be a tall order," he muses. "Especially for a priest, as they are most often tied to one specific religion. But, anyway, the church has you, my dear, that's more than enough for it to stand."

Aziraphale smiles sympathetically. "I've already struggled with that for quite some time. My Heaven had many things to say about demons, which Crowley has proven untrue. Although if it helps you any, we all come from different worlds. What is true in one might not be true in another. All we can do is extend the grace that God has given us to others."

In the time it takes her to answer, the angel starts to worry if he'd asked too personal a question. When she responds brightly, he smiles in relief. "Oh, that's delightful... er, who is Agatha?"

"I know it may not be true for my home." She smiles a little more. "I'd like to find out sometime, what kind of Lucifer lives in my world."

She looks around the room, mostly down low. The angels had all but taken Agatha as soon as she had arrived with her. "Agatha?"

There's a little high pitched yap and a pure white Pomeranian comes running across the tile floor so fast she is sliding. Peninnah opens her arms and the little pup jumps up on her lap. "This is Agatha. She was a gift from a friend in New York."

The little dog is already trying to climb into the angel's lap to sniff him.

"I hope you find an answer to your satisfaction," he replies, although he looks a bit concerned. "The Lucifer lives up to the scriptures. But he has far less influence on humanity than some would have you believe."

Aziraphale also looks around instinctively, although he has no idea who or what he's looking for. His curiosity is quickly rewarded when the little dog comes running up to Peninnah. "Oh! A dog!" He smiles and laughs when the creature tries to climb in his lap. "Oh, she's adorable! Is it all right if I pick her up? Just to set her in my lap."

He offers a hand to the soft white pup to sniff. The angel smells like old books and cocoa, and a bit like the wine he had been enjoying earlier.

She pauses looking down at her lap before sighing and returning her eyes to the angel. "I don't know that I want to go back home again."

It wasn't exactly sadness she felt but a sense of loss that also brought happiness. "I fit in better here than I do at home."

"Yes, She's very friendly." Peninnah beams with cheer. She did love the little dog. Aziraphale is likely to find he has a wiggly dog that adore to lick faces and get affection.

"Well, I'm not entirely surprised. You've made a home and a purpose for yourself here." He smiles at her kindly. "There's no reason that you can't go back now and again. I can keep an eye on the church for you when you aren't around."

Once given her approval, the angel wastes no time in scooping up Agatha and depositing her on his lap. He is immediately rewarded with doggie kisses all up and down his face. "Ah!" he laughs helplessly while Agatha licks his neck, but doesn't mind in the slightest. Dog does the same thing to him when he gets a chance.

Finally, he settles her down with some petting. "What a sweet dear. She's like a little cloud."

"I really don't want to." She looks down at her hands in her lap. "My home's not nice to things that aren't human."

However, as usual, Agatha and her excitement over the angel brightens her mood. She even giggles, hand covering her mouth.

"She is! It takes a lot of brushing and someone bites the brush." She leans in and Agatha bounds up to lick her face.

Peninnah has only alluded to her past, but he sympathizes easily, reaching over to pat her arm. "You certainly don't need to. In fact, I dare say that your presence here is necessary. In all my wanderings about the Nexus, I have yet to find another house of worship that is so welcoming to all."

The little dog is very good at brightening the mood. Aziraphale continues to giggle, even when Agatha switches targets to her owner. "Oh dear, someone likes to get fresh with the hair brush. The result is certainly worth it, though." He admires Agatha's fluffy fur before sighing wistfully. "I have often considered getting a pet of my own. I love dogs, but they require a lot of care, and up until recently I was at Heaven's beck and call. Even now, I'm not sure how well one would tolerate a bookshop. They are so precious, though. Such a joie de vivre, and so affectionate, too."

The compliment brings a bright smile, and a faint blush to her cheeks. "Thank you. Everyone deserves a place where they're welcome."

The already bright smile broadens as the angel speaks so fondly of animals. Peninnah wouldn't trade her dog for anything. "Maybe you could foster one? Or dog sit instead of having one all the time?"

It would help people and dogs. That was a worth cause for an angel.

"In the Nexus more than anywhere else, I'd imagine." The eclectic collection of residents and visitors is proof enough of that.

"Foster?" he repeats curiously, before his expression turns thoughtful. "That would be more of a short-term commitment, wouldn't it? A few weeks and then it'd be ready for a new family."

Or he'd grow so attached to it that he'd end up adopting it. In fact, given all possibilities, that was most likely.

"I'd need to talk about it with Crowley, of course. The bookshop is his home, too."

She nodded agreement. "So many are here to get away from oppression or being outcast at home."

She listens and brightens. "One of the nuns would pet sit, especially for soldiers who were called to war or someone who was taking care of a sick relative or if they were traveling. That was only a few days or weeks sometimes."

Peninnah really enjoyed the idea of pets, especially in her isolation. Agatha never turned away from or was upset by her form. Before the Nexus, she was the only one.

"That is certainly true. I have a home for myself in my world, but even I appreciate the fact that I don't have to hide my nature in the Nexus." Even if he rarely chooses to let out his wings.

A few days in a row also sounds manageable to Aziraphale. He's definitely warming up to the idea of fostering or pet-sitting. "You know, I did care for a rabbit for a few days. His name was Harry, I was using him for a magic show. Terribly sweet fellow, all white like Agatha here. Things, ah... got a little intense immediately after my performance, so I gave him to a nice family in the neighborhood. That's my only recent experience with animals."

He decides it's better not to mention the dove he accidentally let asphyxiate in his sleeve. (At least it got better!)

"I believe that is why this place is beautiful. It is the love and acceptance to be found here." She would understand the hidden wings. Hers also remained hidden most of the time.

"Rabbits are adorable." She can definitely see the angel with a rabbit in his lap, petting it. "Do you visit Harry?"

There's a brief pause and a smile. "I didn't have any experience with animals before Agatha. My friend's dog had puppies that needed homes and he brought one to me when I was living alone."

There are many fond memories of the tiny, barely a tea cup of a puppy that she had received all that time ago. Many things had changed since then.

Aziraphale has an affinity for rabbits, especially the white ones. Perhaps subconsciously feels as though he has something in common with them. The question, however, has him looking somewhat embarrassed. "I used a bit of magic to have the family believe that they'd always owned Harry. I think it'd be peculiar to have an acquaintance ask to see their rabbit, so I haven't tried."

In truth, he likely could have handled that situation better, but he and Crowley had less than a week to find the real Antichrist and somehow stop Armageddon, the angel didn't think he had the time to explain and formally hand over Harry to the family.

"He's much better off with the Johnsons, they can give him the care he needs." He blinks and smiles at her admission. "Is that so? You were a fast learner, then. What are the parts of owning a dog that are the hardest work, in your opinion?"

"I understand. It's good that you found him a loving home." She doesn't want him to feel embarrassed about his choices if it was in the animal's best interest.

"oh." She's a little surprised by both the compliment and the questions. "Thank you. I had help learning. Training is hard because you have to be stern and unwavering even when they're being cute... and you always have to be there for them. It changes how you live. If I'm going to be gone for too long I have to take Agatha with me or find someone to care for her."

Now that Peninnah thinks about it, maybe that is a benefit to these angels being so close by. Fallen they are but she's never seen cruelty in them, especially toward animals.

He smiles sheepishly, appreciating her understanding. "I'd only had him a short time, anyway. I'm sure he's much happier with a whole family to look after him. Rabbits are social creatures."

Compared to him, Peninnah is a dog expert, so he listens closely to her answer, unconsciously nodding and looking a bit stern himself as per her recommendation. Of course, his expression immediately melts into a smile as soon as he looks at Agatha again. No doubt any cute animal in his care is going to walk all over him.

"Yes, that's the main hangup of mine, who might care for a pet if I owned one and had to be away. I do have a number of friends I could call on, at least." Peninnah could find any number of competent caretakers here, although if she left Agatha in Beelzebub's care, the little dog will likely be returned wearing armor.

"I don't know much about rabbits except that they seem fond of living in cemeteries." Most of Peninnah's up close interactions with rabbits had been in those conditions. Though, she didn't travel much so her experience was limited in many ways.

"Agatha is small enough that I usually take her with me." However, she could think of situations where she might not be able to take her along. It was true that there were many here she would trust, and that was still a surprise given how many fallen angels were in this room. However, war-like didn't mean cruel and that was a lesson she was learning. Her smile brightens though.

"If you want practice, you can come spend time with Agatha. She adores visitors and is well behaved."

"Is that so? I know that they live in burrows. A cemetery must be a nice, quiet place for them to live."

Agatha isn't that much bigger than a rabbit, come to think of it. He wonders what it would be like to have a little animal companion to keep him company during the day. Or does Crowley already fill that role? Technically he's a serpent... not very little, though. He amuses himself with the thought of carrying Crowley about as a large snake before returning his attention to Peninnah.

"Oh, may I?" He beams at the idea. "I would like that very much, my dear."

"Of course." She brightens at his obvious excitement. "I may return to my own world, in the summer, for a few days, if you feel confident to babysit for me until I return."

"I'd be honored," he replies, thrilled at the thought of watching Agatha. "I'll read all I can on the matter of caring for dogs so that I'm fully prepared."

He smiles at the small, furry canine, delighted at the opportunity. This will be excellent practice if he decides to foster a dog of his own. He'll bring it up with Crowley, but he's certain that the demon will not mind an addition to their household for a few days in the summer.

Penninah leans over and gives the angel a gentle hug. "Thank you."

She pulls away smiling. "No, I shouldn't take up all your time among your own people, or close to your own people." She pauses worrying her lip. "Do you consider them all your kin? The fallen, I mean, and well I guess the ones from other places?"

Aziraphale returns the hug easily and then settles back in his seat. "We'll have a wonderful time, won't we?" he says to Agatha, although he doesn't expect her to answer.

"Oh, I don't mind, dear, although perhaps I should make the rounds a bit before I leave." The question surprises him and he has to think on it a moment, hands folded in his lap. "Lucifer and his court have been extremely welcoming to me, and despite our opposing theologies, we share a love and compassion for humanity... so, yes, I do view them as kin. And Balthazar, certainly, he's the only other angel I've ever met who's anything like me."

The angel's smile is bittersweet. It is a wonderful feeling to be regarded with affection and respect from other celestial entities, but it also highlights how cold and distant the angels on his world were. The ones that should have been his kin treated him like anything but.

"No, I shouldn't keep you from your other friends."

Peninnah looks down, slightly embarrassed. "I was curious. Lucifer has been very nice to me and.. and I was worried it was trickery. I try not to judge people but the scriptures and writings make him sound to be deadly. I trust your judgement of his character."

Aziraphale smiles at Peninnah reassuringly, leaning forward a bit to hopefully catch her gaze. "It is perfectly reasonable to be cautious. I was much the same way when I first spoke with him, and I'm sure that I handled it with far less grace than you did. But I can say with confidence that Lucifer's kindness is genuine. He is certainly not immune to pride, but he won't abuse your goodwill or otherwise betray you."

There is a pause before the angel adds ruefully, "He does like to tease, but it's all meant in fun, and I suspect that I get the brunt of it because he sees me like a little brother."

She's glad for the understanding and leans close to the angel beside her. "I was worried about the church, but I think I like having it so close to his Villa. One of the angels came to purify the church and bless it."

She giggles at his comment. "He harasses me about being tiny and my hair."

If Aziraphale had his wings out, he'd put one around Peninnah in an added show of reassurance. He settles for patting her arm. "There is something very symbolic about having them close together. Also, the very fact that one of his court can purify and bless your church is a good sign, yes? Crowley can also perform blessings, you know. Even on my world, angels and demons aren't so different."

The angel sighs. "I was told once that he teases those he cares about. I wish his teasing of me was in regards to my height and hair."

"It makes the neutrality and peace of this place more tangible." Penninah agrees with the angel on this topic. "I was raised on the idea of ugly, evil demonic forces working against God. I'm still accepting that it's different in other worlds, maybe mine too."

She lowers her head and sighs. "He tosses me in the air sometimes and harasses me about hiding my wings constantly." She flushes a little from shyness. "Though, he's very good at braiding hair."

"Sometimes things are not as black and white as they appear," he replies, giving her a look of commiseration. "But there will always be people who need our compassion and support. I've never regretting helping someone in need, even if it didn't always turn out the way I expected."

Aziraphale makes a distressed sound at hearing more details. "Well, I wouldn't want him tossing me about... if it makes you feel any better, I keep my wings hidden nearly all the time, too. Did he braid your hair? I learned a bit about braiding, but that was a long time ago. I haven't had an opportunity to do it in a long while."

"It helps me." She smile briefly. "I've always wondered why God gave me demon wings instead of angel wings. I don't think that's the way to think about myself anymore."

That was a hard confession to make but she felt safe here with this angel. "I think he means well. He reminds me more of the bad boys in a service harassing their friends across the pews than malicious so I try to endure it." Penninah nods. "Yes, he has several times. If you want to practice on mine you can."

"Demon wings? Why, what do yours look like? On my world, there isn't really any difference except for color. Crowley tends to keep them in better shape, too."

There's always a feather or two sticking out of place, much like the state of his bookshop. At any rate, he doesn't seem inclined to judge, no matter what Penninah's wings look like.

Her comparison of Lucifer to a naughty human child at church has him giggling. "Well, I suppose that's not so bad... Oh? You'd let me?" He smiles warmly, touched by the offer. "I might take you up on that. Crowley sometimes wears his hair long and... well..." He leans in and confesses, "If I get the opportunity to braid his, I want to do it right."

She trusts him enough to shift her robes and open her wings. They are indeed black bat wings with a dusting of amber brown fur. Though, she doesn't keep them open long and is soon hiding them under the fabric again.

"I would." She giggles at the confession whispered to her. "I think it's a good way to show your affection." Really, no one needed to tell her how Aziraphale felt about Crowley, it was there so clearly in the way he spoke about him. "Mine is curly. It's tricky to braid."

Aziraphale blinks at the sight of her wings. "My dear, there's nothing demonic about them at all. They're lovely." Perhaps this is why Lucifer teases her about hiding her wings, as he'd rather see her show them off proudly. They're nothing to be ashamed of.

The angel blushes and smiles, very obviously in love. "Well, his hair is not nearly so curly as yours when it's long. He kept a braid in his hair in Mesopotamia, I've only seen it like that occasionally since, when it was in fashion."

"In my home they are." She blushes fiery red at the compliment though. "He keeps telling me I should stop being afraid here."

Lucifer was a little pushy sometimes but she understood why. Anyone with the confidence to stab God was going to come across that way sometimes.

"Come by the church whenever you want to practice." She smiles at his obvious affection. "I'm sure his hair is quite lovely."

"While I do agree with him that no one is likely to judge you for your wings in the Nexus, I know that it is not easy to turn off one's anxieties." Lord, does he know that. "Humans often find what they don't understand to be frightening. Rightfully so for angels and demons, if I'm being totally honest, but most times that fear is misplaced."

Aziraphale has had just enough alcohol that he doesn't realize he's got that besotted look on his face. Even when sober, his eyes always shine on the subject of Crowley. "Oh, it is. The most beautiful shade of red, although it tends to be darker when he keeps it short. He's gone through more hairstyles than you can possibly imagine, but that's how he's always been, on the cutting edge of fashion. I'm sure he'll be wearing it long again soon enough."

skekSa's a sight in her nautical clothing and feathered hat, her cutlass buckled to her side as she finds a chair, tail draped on her lap.

She's drunk plenty of rum to get herself in the mood. While she doesn't know this game exactly, she can follow the rules, and she figures Truth or Dare is a good a diversion for an old pirate as any. Besides, she wants to get to know the people here better.

That most certainly is a skeksis! For a moment, Deet is genuinely frightened, and looks around for backup. Seeing SkekGra and UrGoh there, and then of course all the angels, including Thnisko, makes her rational brain kick back in. Even if this is one of the bad ones--and she may not be, because she doesn't look familiar--there's no way she could do anything to harm Deet here and now.

So, if they're going to be able to make friends, this is clearly the best opportunity to try. She waves from across the room to catch skekSa's attention and gives her a sunny smile (best to start as you mean to go on, right?). "Hello! Hi! Truth or Dare?"

skekSa is big even by Skeksis standards. Her posture's straighter than her rotted siblings, and she still has her full plumage, since like skekMal and skekGra she does not use the Crystal's energy. She looks at the Gelfling, wondering which clan she belongs to. Not Sifa, the Gelfling clan the Mariner is the patron of.

The Mariner considers her answer to the Gelfling's question. When she does answer, her voice is clear and deep, almost musical. "Truth."

She's kind of pretty, actually, although Deet is naturally still wary. She continues to smile, anyway, putting her best foot forward. "Oh! Oh, I should have said first. I'm Deet, of the Grottan clan. I'd like to know your name too, but that's not the Truth."

She's a little oddly dressed for a Grottan, with the cloak of Thnisko's feathers on her shoulders. That, and the violet tinge to her eyes.

After a second's consideration, she asks, "If you were in danger, or trapped somewhere you couldn't leave from, who in this room would you pick to rescue you, and why? If you don't know anyone well you can just pick who you think looks strongest or smartest or whatever."

The Skeksis bows her head slightly in greeting, offering Deet a smile. "Hello, Deet. I am skekSa the Mariner, though you may call me Captain."

A Grottan. Not one of the clans she dealt with more often, but one she knows. skekSa notes the unusual feathered cloak and the violet tinge in Deet's eyes, though she doesn't know their significance or where they came from.

"Hm. That's a tricky question, lass." skekSa's a natural loner - she values her independence and proudly sails alone - but what if there was a situation where she needed help? She looks over the room. Plenty of people with fighting experience here. Practically, she would choose one of the angels, since they're the most powerful, but she doesn't really know which is which or what their personalities are like. "I would choose Harley Quinn. She seems practical and well-prepared for a fight."

"Captain," she repeats, perfectly content with the title, and bows slightly in return. "I can do that. I've never really seen the ocean on Thra. I hope I'll get to some day. Maudra Argot has stories she sometimes tells."

The more she talks, the less Deet thinks she has cause to fear this skeksis. She'll be cautious still, but the potential for a new friend from Thra is a wonderful find.

"Harley Quinn..." She looks around the room until she sees who the Captain is looking at, and smiles. "I haven't spoken to her much but I've seen her around. She does seem strong, doesn't she? She can dance, too!"

"Do you want to ask me one now?"

"I can't say it was an easy choice, Deet. There are many people here I would be honored to fight alongside, looking at them." The Mariner tips her hat to the assembled guests. There are more than a few people she'd like by her side in a scrape, even aside from the angels.

She's quickly taking a liking to this Gelfling's curiosity. Deet deserves something in return for such a good question, so skekSa quickly nods and accepts Deet's proposal.

"Don't mind if I take you up on that offer. You seem like a brave lass, Deet. Truth or dare?"

Deet looks serious for a moment, the bright cheer of her expression softening into something far more sober. "It's important to fight beside your friends," she says softly. "But it's hard, too, isn't it? To know they might get hurt, no matter how strong they are."

Pause. "At least, I think so."

But back to the game. "Umm..." Truth could be dangerous here, especially if they come from different times in their world. "Dare, please!"

What does a skeksis dare a gelfling to do? We shall see!

"You speak wisely, lass. Fighting is hard, 'specially for things you believe in."

skekSa sails alone - in part for her image and to preserve her independence, but also so her Sifa won't be involved in her battles. She has few friends, especially not among the Skeksis, but the more time she spends here the more the idea of friends appeals to her.

She wants to get to know the Nexus and its people better.

"A dare, then! Well, let me think." The Mariner considers what to ask. "Aha! Show us your wings, Deet."

Deet nods slightly, worrying her lip at little at the thought of the last fight she saw, the anger and fear that gripped her, the power of the Darkening. Her fingers stray to the edge of the cloak she's wearing and run through the soft feathers, and that makes her feel better at once.

A slow smile grows on her face once again at the dare, and she giggles quietly, once. "That almost sounds like flirting, Captain," she teases, but nods agreeably.

The cloak has to be adjusted slightly, but then she flares her wings and flutters, hopping into the air and hovering for a few seconds before landing again. She leaves her wings spread then, content to show them off despite her laughter. "I got bit by a nurloc on this one," she points. "Not that long ago, but it's almost all healed up. I don't think there's going to be a scar at all in the long run."

"Between the two of us," says the Captain, voice low, "I think you have an admirer already. I don't flirt with a lass who's taken."

skekSa has noticed the black feathers, as dark as her own mane. She wonders what the source of those feathers is, but that'll be a question for later. Perhaps it's a gift, since she can't think of a Thra creature that could give material for a cloak like that.

The Mariner's own body has some scars from old adventures and old battles, so she nods in respect. Some are faded marks on her snout, others are hidden under feathers. Clearly Deet has seen some adventures of her own.

Beelzebub has consumed so much alcohol that he'd lost track long ago. He's not in full armor; just leather kilt, plated leather boots and his swords strapped to his back. However, he isn't walking straight any longer and carrying an entire pitcher of wine.

He's not paying attention to much until he sees the giant bird WITH A SWORD! He turns and starts toward her in an almost straight line.

He motions at her with the pitcher. "AH! You've got a sword too. About time we have more warriors here."

"There seem to be a fair few here, yourself included. I am Captain skekSa. It's a pleasure."

skekSa isn't as drunk as the angel, but she drank a good amount of rum before joining in the game. The pirate gives a polite smile. Clearly soused out of his skull, but he wouldn't be the only one, so she's not judging.

"Yes," she says. "For self-defense, mostly, though I'm not opposed to a good sparring match. Sometimes I explore dangerous places in my travels." Besides the cutlass, she carries several of her explosive thunder-eggs and a set of knives when she travels the Wilds to defend herself if necessary.

He glances back at the other angels. "Many aren't all warriors but my family's got a temper."

He laughs and offers her his free hand. "Lord Beelzebub."

Beelzebub would normally carry more weapons but among his brothers and family it wasn't needed, especially here in the Nexus. "I'm the archangel of war."

The mention of sparring brightens the angel's eyes. "We've got a sparring ring here if you want to walk the sands. I'm always up for a game of swords."

"I left my family behind long ago. They're a wretched lot. I have some connections at the Court of the Crystal, but they're more allies than friends, so the Emperor will leave me alone. And I'm reconsidering those." skekSa snorts. Her "friendship" with skekZok the Ritual-Master was more out of necessity than anything, and here in the Nexus she's already found more trustworthy allies. She may have no need for him anymore. "He doesn't like me, but the tithes keep him from pursuing me or harassing my Sifa."

The Mariner accepts Beelzebub's hand firmly.

She hasn't met an angel, much less fought one. Her snout turns into a tooth-filled smile. This could be an experience in the future.

"I may take you up on that offer one of these days. Have you fought one of my kind before?" She's spotted skekGra in the group - she wasn't present when the Conqueror was banished, but knew what had happened to him. "Fighting me is a different experience than fighting other Skeksis." skekSa is bigger, more solidly built, and has full use of her second set of arms. She has neither touched the Crystal nor drunk a drop of essence.

"Half our family follows an uncaring tyrant." He takes a long drink from the pitcher. "We're at war with them."

Beelzebub looks her over as she speaks and then gets drunkenly excited."You... you're one of those people that brought the Fizzgigs here?"

He was slowly putting things together. Like his own kind, it seemed like there was a mass migration from this creation too. He wondered if it was another war of attrition.

He laughed heartily. "You might make better account of yourself with my kind. Humans struggle with our extra limbs." Talk of war and fighting has the drunken angel jovial and gregarious."Come share some drink. I'd learn about your people."

"I was not involved with the Fizzgigs - I came here by accident, not fleeing anything. However, in many ways the Nexus is better than my home world, so I've been spending more time here and" She likes Thra, and the Silver Sea, but a space where she doesn't have to deal with skekSo is tempting. She hates the Emperor. "I'm afraid that if I faced skekSo, I'd stand alone. My Skeksis siblings are under his sway."

With one exception - skekGra - but the Conqueror seems to no longer be a fighter. She might be one of the stronger Skeksis in physical terms, but she would still be only one Skeksis against the rest.

"You wish to learn about the Skeksis?" The Mariner stands a little. "That's a long story. We have a complicated history, and there are missing pieces. In return, you can tell me a little about your people."

"My Nephew and Brothers have mentioned tyrants in your homeland." He can't remember who off hand told him about their world; Death for sure, but he's not sure who else.

"We'll both have long stories." Beelzebub is definitely interested in drunken story telling. High quality human whiskey is his go to when he's unsure of the tolerance or mortality of a new drinking partner. "We could alter the game. Asking questions we both answer."

Aziraphale should have left the moment chairs started being rearranged into a circle, but he is well into the stage of drinking where the long-term consequences of fun party games are not taken into account. So he sits and waits to be asked and will let future!Aziraphale deal with any potential embarrassment.

"Hello! Good to meet you. I am skekGra the Heretic!"

A friendly bird-lizard approaches Aziraphale, accompanied by a four-armed creature which looks like a cross between a reptile and a puppy. skekGra's drunk, but not on alcohol. He and urGoh brought their own urdrupe berries to the party for their enjoyment, so they're as excited as they come, even by skekGra's standards.

"I think I know how the rules work by now. Truth or dare?"

"Think...carefully," adds urGoh. The Mystic observes the proceedings with interest, in his slow way.

Aziraphale looks up at the two beings with obvious curiosity. He's never seen beings like them, and both so different from one another, besides. Although there is something oddly familiar about that sort of contrast, now that he takes a closer look at them...

Oh! Introductions, that's right. "Hello," he replies pleasantly. "My name is Aziraphale." There are a lot of questions he'd like to ask the pair, but they are playing a party game, and skekGra is correct about the rules. "All right... how about truth, then? Ask me anything."

"And I...am urGoh...the Wanderer."The Mystic lowers his head slightly, his way of greeting Aziraphale.

"No time, urGoh! We have to play the game!" skekGra melodramatically clears his throat before he thinks of a question. urGoh's right that he needs to think of a good one. He owes this friendly angel that much.

"What are the angels like? In your world, I mean." skekGra only really knows about the fallen angels, and even then his knowledge of them is relatively limited. The ones he knows have been good to him, but he doesn't know anywhere near all of them.

Aziraphale holds back a small smile at their banter. Yes, this is terribly familiar. He hopes he gets the opportunity to learn more about who they are before they part ways.

But first, the game! "Ah, as it happens, I am an angel, so I'm more than qualified to answer your question." He smiles brightly before his expression freezes, turning a shade nervous. Yes, he is an angel, but he's the exception to the rule. To describe angels as they are on his Earth would be... not terribly flattering. Oh, dear.

"Well... we are ethereal," he finally continues. "We have bodies, but this --" He taps himself. "Is merely a vessel for my true form. We are tasked by God -- the creator of our universe -- to watch over humanity. To encourage them to do good instead of evil." He pauses a moment and adds with a wave of his hand. "Broadly speaking."

Abigor was instructed, by thier all too drunk lord, to meet the others here and learn them. It was with that in mind they approach the equally drunk looking celestial angel.

This angel, unlike the other fallen, has black, furry bat wings in high contrast to the blonde hair and androgynous, fresh faced youthful appearance. The one thing that stands out in thier modern dress is an incredibly crimson red leather jacket.

"You're Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale looks up at the sound of his name and immediately straightens, his posture having gone a little slouchy in the comfortable chair he's been sitting in, nursing his glass of wine.

"Yes, that's me," he says politely. He recognizes the other being as a fallen angel, although one he hasn't met yet. He's fairly certain he wouldn't have missed those bat wings. "To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

They offer their hand, laughing at the way the angel straightens. "Great Duke Abigor. I serve under Lord Beelzebub as head of the royal guard and... " They glance at Moloch. "...divine babysitter."

It was a duty they didn't mind, a necessary one. Though it did seem there was some benefit to Moloch having moments to socialize and discipline himself, or be disciplined harshly.

Aziraphale shakes their hand, his expression warming at the mention of Beelzebub. "Nice to meet you, Abigor." He glances over at Moloch as well and winces in sympathy. "Ooh, I don't begrudge you that job in the slightest," he sighs, although there's no revulsion in his voice. One would assume that an angel would barely tolerate the presence of a cannibal, but Aziraphale sounds more sad about Moloch than anything.

Focusing back on Abigor, the angel regains his good cheer. "Anyway, I'm assuming Beelzebub sent you over? I hope he already explained to you that I'm an angel from a different universe."

"Right now, it is as much for his safety." Abigor sighs heavily but puts on a smile. "He's angered my lord and they've been coming to blows."

That was the job Abigir didn't want, breaking up that fight yet again. They match the cheer if thier companion though, putting aside the less pleasant thoughts. "It was, but I knew of you before. No one enters or leaves the villa without my knowing."

Invisibility and a good amount of animal speech kept this angel well informed though they didn't pry in personal matters. "I was at the holiday celebration but on duty all night with Moloch."

That doesn't come as much of a surprise to Aziraphale. He can easily picture Moloch getting under Beelzebub's skin. To ask for specifics feels like gossiping, however, so he settles for another sympathetic look. "Well, let's hope that everyone behaves themselves this evening."

He blinks, although Abigor keeping track of the villa's guests shouldn't be much of a surprise, either. "Oh, that's a shame," he says sincerely. "It was such a lovely party, too." He pats the seat next to him. "If you can spare a moment of your duties now, I'd be delighted for your company."

There's the matter of the game, too, but he imagines that Abigor will bring it up if they're interested in asking Aziraphale for a truth or dare.

Abigor's eyes drift between Moloch and the very drunk Beelzebub before settling on a blonde human. "At least there's enough angels here to separate them if he's provoked."

"I've seen enough of Lucifer's parties." Abigor mentions as they take the seat that's been offered. "It's been a long time since I've spoken with an angel of Heaven at length."

It does appear that most of Lucifer's court is here, which is reassuring. "I suppose Lucifer would rather keep him here than in Chaos unsupervised," he muses. "I do think it's a kindness to let him experience the Nexus."

He knows that Moloch does not see it that way, but Moloch isn't sitting right here to complain about that, is he?

Abigor's comment makes him chuckle. "Well, you have one right here! What would you like to talk about?"

"The situation is complicated." Abigor offers honestly. The tension between Moloch and Lucifer and the others had started long before this angel was created.

The angel hadn't meant they had anything specific in mind. "Whatever you'd like. I am glad for calmer company for one night."

Beelzebub was their mentor since before the fall but sometimes a break was needed from his boisterous and rowdy nature.

Aziraphale nods in agreement, although his mind is on a different sort of complicated. "I thought my opinion of Moloch would remain unchanged," he confesses to the youthful angel. "But as I've learned more about his circumstances... well, nothing in your universe that simple, is it?"

As for his own nature, the angel smiles reassuringly. "Quite calm, I assure you. No one's asked or dared me to do anything untoward, either. How are you liking the Nexus? I hope you've been given an opportunity to do a little exploring on your own."

"He has a sense of loyalty, twisted but loyal all the same." Abigor comments and then shakes their head. "No universe is simple."

"I'm surprised they are behaving, though I've seen a lot of kissing." They aren't perturbed, more amused by the mischief. "I haven't, but I will as soon as duties allow it."

"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend,'" the angel quotes. "Or, I suppose in this case, the enemy of his enemy is someone he's willing to tolerate." Although that begs the question of why Moloch bothers to speak to him at all. Aziraphale is only relevant in a 'We don't eat Lucifer's friends" sort of way.

He'll puzzle over that one later. For now, he's happy to chat with someone who appreciates a chance to enjoy a party quietly and responsibly.

"Of course there's kissing, it's the oldest dare in the book. I'm fairly certain I'm off-limits, though, not unless someone wants an angry snake in their face." Balthazar's nose kiss got a pass, but anyone who goes for the cheeks or the lips will have an aggrieved Crowley to deal with. Aziraphale can't say that he particularly minds, either.

"I hope you get the chance soon. The Nexus is an amazing, wonderful place. Not without its own dangers, of course, but worth exploring, certainly. Do you have any particular passions? Food, music? Clothing, perhaps? I could give you a few recommendations."

"On the surface it is." Abigor's gaze turns to where Moloch is sitting. "He's more than he lets any one person know, except perhaps Lucifer himself."

The angel laughs merrily at the declaration. "I'm personally waiting for someone to approach Belial for one, preferably without warning." They were definitely in this for the mischief. "Though there are some I here I would avoid kissing if I were dared."

"Lucifer accuses me of being a homebody." Abigor looks to the angel beside him. "Unsurprising, I do like weapons work but more personally, horseback riding. Though, I prefer my own mount to mortal horses."

Aziraphale nods thoughtfully in agreement. "Before I met him, I assumed that he was like one of the demons on my world, but he's far more complex than any of them." He smiles at Abigor and adds, "I can see why you've been put in charge with keeping an eye on him."

"There's nothing wrong with being a homebody," he says definitively. Although his expression falls when Abigor mentions their interest in horseback riding. "Oh, I'm afraid I can't help you with that. I'm sure there are stables in the Nexus, but I haven't ridden a horse in centuries. They don't ever listen to me, not unless I impose my will upon them, which I hate doing."

Abigor sighed and shook their head. "He's found ways around the anti-violence wards and the brand we've put on him. He nearly killed Galahad."

The angel figured that would explain the intellect and the current tension. Abigor doesn't linger on the subject though and turns to other, happier topics. They're glad the other angel understood the desire to stay in one place. Not many of the others did. "I can't stable Eligos with horses. She's..." the angel pauses. "Beelzebub made her for me long ago."

Aziraphale gasps, obviously alarmed. "You've closed that particular loophole, I hope? The Nexus is full of innocents."

It's a good reminder that Moloch is always dangerous, although the dye has been cast and he's unlikely to shun the fallen angel unless the risk becomes too great.

"What is she?" Despite not wanting to ride a horse, he is still curious. "Some sort of version of a horse like a hellhound is to a dog?"

"Not fully. He's always found ways around wards and laws since the fall." Abigor admits. "Moloch should be stayed for now. Lucifer had to pull Beelzebub off of him when they fought or he might have killed him."

The angel hadn't been able to separate the two angels and had to call for help. There were reasons why Moloch always had guards when he ventured outside of Chaos.

Abigor considers. "Undead? I don't know that anyone knows. There's a place in Chaos that Beelzebub took the horses that died in Eden to bury them. He's a soft spot for the animals that serve in wars. When he was done two horses woke from the graves. His stallion, Kapnos, and Eligos. She has wings like mine and the stallion breathes fire."

"I suppose it wouldn't do any good for me to talk to him about it," Aziraphale mutters, twisting his fingers together. He'd probably get laughed at for his trouble. No, best to stay out of it. Although he has a feeling that Moloch would not have minded in the slightest if Beelzebub had been successful.

The story is touching; Aziraphale is already aware of Beelzebub's soft spot for animals, but the fact that he took the time to bury the horses in Eden speaks volumes to his character. "How fascinating! I suppose 'undead' is the technically correct term. I'd like to see the both of them someday, unless you're concerned that my ethereal nature will spook them."

"It's his curse." Abigor shrugged helplessly. "Lucifer's seeing to mitigating it for now, but Moloch's always challenged change violently, sometimes."

It was relatively expected. Balthazar had weathered the encounter better because he had a fearlessness to push back. Being pinned on an icy lake by something supernatural wasn't an easy thing for a mortal. It was a different type of encounter.

"They both have human level intelligence. It won't be like meeting an animal that is pure instinct. We haven't brought them here, but I think Beelzebub is planning to bring Kapnos to the Nexus soon." Abigor cracks a smile. "I am waiting to see who he convinces to joust with him. My lord is obsessive about jousting and mounted combat."

"So I've noticed," Aziraphale comments with an arched eyebrow, before letting the subject drop. He has to trust that Lucifer will handle it somehow. Perhaps he should have a talk with him about it, but not right now. A party is not the proper atmosphere for a serious discussion.

That's a relief to hear. Aziraphale loves animals, even the very unusual ones, and he'd hate to get off on the wrong foot (hoof?) with one, just because of its origins. "I'll ask him to introduce us, then. I got along well with a small family of thestrals, it should be fine.

As for jousting, he chuckles a little. "Obviously. I've watched several of those in my day, but I managed to avoid participating. A few minor miracles and nobody asked why Sir Aziraphale of the Round Table stayed out of the ring."

"Beelzebub has a way with beasts of war." Abigor offers realizing it was an understatement.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he miracled himself into extra ones." Their brow raises curiously and they have to ask. "Do you know Galahad?"

It wouldn't be a surprise the the angel if they did, but there wasn't any clues to say whether Aziraphale and the Galahad here were from the same creation.

Aziraphale chuckles a little. "Yes, I would imagine so."

"Not Beelzebub's Galahad," he clarifies, and though the phrasing is unintentional, he doesn't consider it inaccurate, either. "I was friendly with the Galahad of my world. He was very kind and brave, the epitome of chivalry. I'd say out of everyone in King Arthur's Court, I spent the most time with him and Merlin."

"He's here." Abigor offers. "This is the first time Galahad has been brought among us. So far his presence has been well received."

The angel nods. "I've only spoken with him once or twice, but it speaks to his strength that his presence has calmed my lord to a degree."

"He's one of the judges, isn't he?" He had been sort of paying attention when the judges were selected. He already knows Belial, and the fellow with the beard and lack of volume control must be Prometheus, which makes the one who is Galahad rather obvious.

"So I've noticed. Galahad is not the type of knight to rush headlong into battle, or fan the flames of war."

"He is." Abigor confirms, eyes turning to the blonde human speaking with Belial.

That last comment gets a jovial laugh from the angel. "I don't know about not fanning the flames of war. I think there's a meaning of those words he's definitely doing."

"That's a good choice. I can't imagine him approving any dares that are too outrageous."

It takes a moment to pick up on Abigor's innuendo, and then he's blushing and trying his best to stifle a laugh. "That's not what I meant," he replies, before leaning a bit closer to them and adding, "Although that does explain the change in Beelzebub's demeanor when he's around, does it not?"

"I don't know the third judge, but Belial and Galahad will put a stop to anything too fun."

Abigor laughs and nods. "He's a peacock when the human's around. You should see Beelzebub and Lucifer start competing when Balthazar and Galahad are both here." The words are full of amusement because everything became a competition. Things that didn't matter, never mattered. Most of the angels just let them go and puff up, preen, prance at each other.

"Do you want me to introduce you?"

"Belial knows how to have fun," Aziraphale protests lightly, but then again, the blind angel's idea of fun is very similar to Aziraphale's. "The third one I believe is Prometheus, the Titan of Forethought. If there's anyone who would put a stop to a dare or an answered question that might get too far out of hand, it's him."

At the thought of Beelzebub and Lucifer out-preening one another, he just shakes his head and echoes Abigor's laughter. "I can imagine it easily."

"Oh! Well... yes, if it isn't a bother. I'd be delighted."

"Fun is perspective." Abigor nods and looks over at the other judge. "I'm not surprised to see someone from the Greco-Roman pantheon here as Lucifer's guest."

"We all secretly watch from a distance when they play chess. It's a sight worth seeing." The fights that had erupted out of chess games were legendary among the angels.

"I don't think he will mind. He's been interested in meeting more of the family." Abigor comments and motions toward the human they had been talking about.

Aziraphale shrugs. "He probably feels right at home with the architecture."

"Oh, I'm sure they're both extremely competitive about it. I have a lovely set in my bookshop, but I don't play it much. I don't know if Crowley and I have ever finished a game." Probably because they spend the entire time talking and drinking and lose track of whose turn it is.

The angel looks confused a moment before he realizes that Abigor is referring to him as family. The idea of being accepted by a group of celestial beings is still so novel to him, and he smiles brightly without realizing it. "Well, then let's get to it, shall we?" He stands up and straightens his bowtie. "It will be a pleasure to meet him."

"I like playing well enough. Beelzebub is fond of any game that requires strategy." Not that Abigor thought that would surprise anyone.

Abigor leads the way over to the human.

"Sir Galahad?" They ask politely waiting for the human to acknowledge them. "This is Aziraphale. He's one of the angels from another creation than ours, and a celestial."

Those few words covered most of the basics quickly. They knew Galahad was new to this and might need more background for now.

Honestly, unless Crowley is around, Aziraphale is low-hanging fruit where giving kisses is concerned. Balthazar doesn't even hesitate, simply bringing a decanter of whiskey over to top off the other angel's glass, and kissing him on the bridge of his nose while he's distracted.

"Thank you for being part of my dare." Grin. "Can I get you anything while I'm up?"

Aziraphale is about to thank Balthazar for the top up when he's interrupted with the sudden nose kiss. He goes briefly cross-eyed, then looks at the other angel in confusion.

Oh, it's a dare. He chuckles a bit. "Thought someone'd snuck a mistletoe crown on me again when I wasn't looking," he jokes. "No, I'm fine. Who dared you to kiss someone?"

Deet has been dared to share food or drink with someone she hasn't met. For whatever reason, Aziraphale looks particularly soft and approachable, so he is the person she selects. Walking over to stand on the floor by his chair, she reaches out and tugs the corner of his coat, just in case he hasn't spotted her.

"Excuse me," she says. "Hello! I can't reach the top of the table where the drinks are. Could you please help me? You're much taller."

...granted, so is everyone else in the room.

Edited (clarity) 2020-02-25 20:44 (UTC)

Aziraphale is a little bit in his own world at the moment, nursing a glass of whiskey and passively watching the party unfold. The tug to the corner of his coat pulls him back into the moment and he looks down, astonished by what he sees. That's a faerie! Well, best not to jump to conclusions, but the little lady strongly resembles his idea of one.

"Oh, yes, of course I can help you." He smiles warmly. "Did you need a... er, a boost? Or did you want me to fetch you something from the table?"

She's not sure quite why he's so surprised to see her, although she might recognize the word faerie if he said it--not because she is one, but because he's not the first to think so. She certainly exudes innocent cheer in a way that matches children's tales of good fae, although her wings are tucked away just now. Aziraphale may also notice the cloak she's wearing, which is made of dark, thick black feathers.

They're Thnisko's feathers, in point of fact. Whatever else the two of them may be, in relation to one another, he's already very protective of her.

She smiles in response to his willingness to help her. "Well, either, I suppose? I'm not sure it's polite for me to stand on the table...but actually, I've been dared to share food or drink I haven't tried before, with someone I don't know yet. And I won't know until I look if there's anything there that I haven't tried. So if you'd like to share something with me, that would be wonderful! But even if not, I could use the help."

"Oh! And I'm Deet. That's my name. Hello!"

Aziraphale has not had the pleasure yet of meeting Thnisko, but the feathers give off a familiar celestial aura, one that has him giving the cloak a careful look. But soon enough, his gaze is back on the little lady herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Deet. My name is Aziraphale. I think it would be easiest if I help you up so that you could get a good look at all the offerings at once. It'd be more efficient than me describing each item to you."

He leans down, arms forming a kind of makeshift basket that Deet could settle into, if she chooses. Aware that this requires a certain amount of trust, he adds, "I'm an angel, like many of the others at this party. I'm also a connoisseur of human cuisine, so feel free to ask what's best to try."

If she could see Aziraphale's wings, she would already realize who and what he is, but she has yet to meet an angel that doesn't wander around with them out and all over the place. It seems that it would be hard for some of them to get through doorways like that, but she has yet to see any have trouble. In any case, she doesn't have quite the knowledge base to identify an angel on sight--or by psychic feel--but there is something very wholesome and peaceful about him that she likes.

"It's nice to meet you, Aziraphale. Thank you for the help," she gives him a sunny smile.

She's already willing to let him lift her, even before he explains. Even if he didn't feel pleasant and wholesome, this place is safe as far as she's concerned, with Thnisko and his family in the same room with her. She brightens when he explains, though, settling in his arms and holding onto his sleeve for balance. "Oh! But where are your wings, then? Are you from Chaos like the others? I haven't met all of them, but Thnisko is my friend."

Maybe a little more than friend. Best friend? Romantic interest? Neither of them is sure yet.

Aziraphale makes a funny little sound when she asks if he's also from Chaos. "Oh, no, my dear. I'm from a different universe than Lucifer and his court." Is it worth also explaining the theological differences to a being from another world entirely? He muses on that while Deet gets settled in his arms, but ultimately decides to answer her other question instead. "I keep my wings tucked away on the astral plane. I suppose I don't need to in the Nexus, but it's a force of habit at this point."

He smiles at the mention of Lucifer's son. "I haven't had the fortune of meeting him yet. He's rather shy, isn't it? Hopefully I'll be given the opportunity soon."

Moving on to the table in front of him, he carefully shifts Deet's weight to one arm so he can use the other to point out what food is available. "That's a bowl of mixed fruit: pears and peaches and plums. You can't go wrong with any of those, although pears are my favorite. That's a platter of assorted cheese and crackers. Cheese is made from milk, and it's one of the best human inventions, right up there with bread. And that's a bowl of potato crisps. A rather pedestrian sort of snack, very salty, but highly addictive. You'll want something to drink with them for sure."

Oddly opposite, in all white to Ian's all black, he looks like someone who might appreciate Harley's dare. He even based the song he sings randomly at this guest on the nickname he was given.

Edited 2020-03-04 20:55 (UTC)

Aziraphale blinks up at the man who approaches -- human, so far as he can tell -- and sits silently while he is serenaded by a song whose lyrics he does not recognize, but melody that he has heard many times before.

"Ah..." he says when the stranger is done, before clapping politely at the performance. What sort of dare prompted this? "Lovely rendition of In the Hall of the Mountain King. What were those numbers that you were rattling off to the tune of it?"

Ian laughs when he's done singing because the expression on the other's face is amusing. "The first hundred digits of Pi."

For a moment, Aziraphale thinks of a different sort of 'pie', and Ian gets to bear witness to the expression of an incredibly disgruntled angel. "I see. And might I inquire who put you up to this dare?"

Ian wonders what the expression is for but then surmises maybe this person had encountered a dare, or an uncomfortable truth, in the past few minutes. It was the name of the game after all.

He looks around for a moment and points out Harley. "Uh.. she did. I was dared to sing a song about an equation."

Aziraphale looks over in the direction Ian points and immediately relaxes when he sees who it is. Harley comes with her own particular brand of teasing, but so far as Aziraphale knows, she's unaware of the pie reference. Truly just a reference to the number, then.

With a much warmer expression, he smiles at Ian. "Good thing you have that particular song memorized. A useful number, that, or so I'm told." He offers a hand. "My name's Aziraphale. Was that the extent of your dare?"

"My daughter's never going to let me forget it." He comments more than a little amused by the situation. He takes the offered hand in a firm shake.

"Dr. Ian Malcolm. I only had to sing to people and you're the last one."

"Your daughter is a fan?" he asks, smiling. It does seem like the type of song a child with a bright mind would be interested in learning.

"A pleasure to meet you, Doctor. Sounds as though you're off the hook, then! Not so terrible a dare, well, unless you had a bit of stage fright." Which this man does not appear to have.

"Yes, uh... she's been interested in music since she was a baby." At least as far as Ian knew. there were times he was cut out of her life but better not to mention or think of those at a party.

"Not at all." He manages an amused and quiet laugh. "I sing and play jazz piano as a hobby. I've seen worse, for me, dares this evening."

"How delightful." Aziraphale loves children. In theory. In practice, it depends on their age and attitude. "How old is she now?"

"Oh! Well, then this must be old hat for you." He tilts his head curiously. "What other dares have you had? No one has dared me to do anything." Because he's only answered truth so far, as awkward as that can also be at times.

"Twelve." Ian loved his daughter and Aziraphale could probably get him to talk about her forever. "and recently, an obsessive gymnast."

"None, uh.. this was my first. Have you?"

Ian's love for his daughter is obvious to Aziraphale, who has a supernatural sense for such things. He'd be happy to listen for quite a while, and smiles at the man's reply. "Oh? Does she compete at all, or is she still learning?"

"I've asked a few people, and been asked in turn. I haven't participated in these sorts of parlor games in some time, but it's been fun so far." Well, except for his conversation with Moloch. 'Fun' is not a word he associates with him. "It's certainly a more diverse group of people than any I'd experience back on Earth."

"Her first competitions will be in the fall."

His comment gets a snorting laugh from the humans. "I have three children with me.. uh.. this.." He motions around at the people playing the game. "Starts before breakfast."

As an Atheist, Ian is still trying to wrap his head around the gods and angels and the rest of the Nexus but nods in agreement. Cynical amusement comes with his comments. "I never imagined I would be playing truth or dare in the Devil's Parlor."

"That's wonderful... oh! Your children are here with you?" Is that safe? Such parlor games can get out of hand, but all seems under control currently.

Ian's comment earns an uninhibited laugh from the angel. "Believe me, dear fellow, neither did I. I imagine my former superiors would have several words to say to me if they saw me in this state."

"No, not today." Ian raised a brow behind his glasses at the room. They would probably get a run for their money, even the devil, from his daughter. "I. uh.. usually do have her with me, and the other two... they aren't mine, but they seem like it for how often they're in my house."

Ian laughs even more. "My father already expects I gave up and went to the devil years ago."

"Oh? Children can come into our lives somewhat unexpectedly. I was a godfather of sorts to a child for a number of years, and currently serve as a a family friend to a few more. I would have thought even that nigh impossible a little over a decade ago."

Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. "For what, being a mathematician? If it helps any, you're keeping company with an angel, as well."

"Their father is putting the family through..uh.. a divorce." Ian had a lot of words to stick into that sentence, most were profanities and other curses. "My wife did the same. The kids have numerous shared experiences."

All of which he would have spared his daughter from, but that was in the past and not something to focus on now. Ian shakes his head disappointed. "My father's traditional. The son is supposed to be dutifully religious and take over the family business."

Ian was neither of those things and it caused strife, all the time.

"Ah, I see. Is this a blended family type of situation?" That's the term for it, he thinks. It's always a crapshoot which words from current vernacular will stick in his head.

The angel finds himself frowning in sympathy. "That's been the way of the world for quite a while. I can't say I'm unfamiliar to that sort of familial pressure. What's the family business?"

"No, I just watch them. Their mother is my uh.. employer's daughter and the kids sort of grew up together." It was complicated for sure but Ian had always heard "blended family" in reference to marriage. Though, Mrs. Murphy, or Hammond if she changed it back, was a nice enough woman he had no interest in marrying her.

"Book keeping and finance when I was in school. He owns his own business now." Ian had the head for the math, but not the boredom of something so mundane.

"Oh, I see. I didn't think that was so common anymore. Children from different families growing up together, I mean. I think it's lovely."

Aziraphale smiles at the mention of bookkeeping. "Oh, I do that for my bookshop. I find it rather soothing, personally, having everything add up on either side of the ledger, but I understand that it's not for everyone."

"I'm not sure it is, but divorces and rough work schedules call for non-traditional solutions." It was how Ian and Mrs. Murphy had fallen into an unspoken agreement to take on each others children, or Hammond took them, or someone else.

"I prefer theoretical mathematics." He could imagine though that small business owners would have to do a lot of the financial footwork on their own. It made sense for Aziraphale and his father to share that in common.

"It used to be that way, when humans lived in smaller communities. How lovely that you are able to make that work for your family."

Aziraphale has a fondness for playing the role of shopkeeper, even if he rarely sells anything. It's why it's so easy for him to keep his books balanced. "Ah, I see. I'm not as familiar with that branch of mathematics. The most complicated work I do is when I file my taxes annually, but I have a computer to help with that."

Ian is appreciative of anyone who delves into math because there are so many that treat it like it is impossible. "Theoretical projection requires computers too, but uh... if you understand what the computer is doing the data makes more sense."

Abigor is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

"Hello! I don't believe we've formally met," Balthazar greets Abigor brightly. It's not an entirely innocent introduction, because he offers a handclasp, and if it's accepted, he fully intends to kiss the back of the other angel's knuckles, as if Balthazar were some sort of gentleman. (Haha!)

"I'm Balthazar. You work with Beelzebub, don't you?" He is trying to learn!

Abigor recognizes the angel, because thier job requires them to keep track, often from the shadows. They definitely take the invitation, though they grasp the forearm in a more warrior like introduction.

"Yes, I'm Great Duke Abigor. I head the royal guards of Pandemonium." Abigor, like Phenex, is very ambiguous, neither male or female in presence and voice.

Edited 2020-02-25 19:21 (UTC)

Balthazar sort of suspected they would already know who he is, given the reactions of most of the other Fallen Angels, but introducing himself felt polite. "Great Duke Abigor," he repeats thoughtfully, and nods. The genderless look doesn't surprise him in the least, though it's interesting that Abigor and Phenex seem to wear it differently; elegant practicality in Abigor, Phenex more like a statue carved of crystal and pearl.

The armclasp doesn't stop him in his intentions. He returns it firmly, but ducks his head to steal a kiss to the back of Abigor's hand anyway before letting go.

"There, I'm killing two birds with one stone," he explains. "I was dared to kiss five people in the room other than Lucifer, and I thought I ought to say hello to you anyway. Do you want to play Truth or Dare?"

Abigor chuckles at the kiss, good natured. Being in Beelzebub's service gave the angel a tolerance for the unexpected unlikely to be matched by anyone but Belial. "Of course the King has taken a flatterer to his side on the throne."

"If you want." They glance around. "Both of my charges are behaving themselves for now."

Moloch is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

This is a terrible idea.

Of all the people to ask to participate in a silly parlor game, Moloch should be at the bottom of the list, especially as Aziraphale does not want to disrupt the delicate rapport that they have already built. But something about the fallen angel sitting there by himself feels like... well, not quite a challenge, but something akin to that. And so, with just enough alcohol in his system to convince himself that this isn't a terrible idea, he squares his shoulders and approaches.

"Hello, Moloch." His smile is polite and surprisingly unforced. "Truth or dare?"

Moloch was content sitting off, nearly in the corner. He did have his own pitcher and a glass filled with a red liquid much thicker than wine. It is definitely blood he's drinking but the effect of satiating his hunger is on par with alcohol and others. There's definitely a intoxicated appearance to Moloch when he looks over to Aziraphale.

A drunkenly predatory smile spreads in his expression, though the drunken part makes him look a lot less sinister than usual. He considers the question and sits up a little straighter in the chair. There is one nearby if the angel wants to sit. "Which would you prefer? I assume you came to me with something in mind."

Edited 2020-02-17 21:29 (UTC)

Yeah, that's blood. Aziraphale can smell it from where he's standing. He tries his best not to wrinkle his nose as he takes the empty seat. The predatory smile doesn't dissuade him or disrupt his calm aura as he places his hands in his lap and faces the fallen angel.

"I did," he admits. "For either option, and I suspect you won't care for either of them, but my intention is not to ridicule or provoke you." He smiles enigmatically. "So, really, it's entirely up to you."

Moloch is unimpressed with this turn of events but figures he has to participate now, and why not? He listens drinking from his glass and licking the blood slowly from his lips.

"Truth?" He might be a bit curious what this overly friendly angel would ask. It also allows him to refrain from interacting with others here.

Darn, Moloch chose truth and not dare. No chance of making him say something nice to Lucifer. Oh, well, it was worth a shot, and he does have a question in mind to ask. He just needs a moment to word it properly.

"Let's say things pass in your universe that lifts your curse. God..." He swallows. "...dies, or what have you. No more war, no more need to fight. What would you do, if you could live a life of peace?"

"For that to happen Lucifer'd regain his creative power." Moloch is more clarifying the situation that would have to happen.

"Ask Lucifer to send me back into the void we're made from." The angel glanced at the way too cheery one beside him. "Raising my curse won't change much for me. I've got no light to regain when God dies."

He's serious too. This isnt some ploy or game, though there is a tiny satisfaction knowing it might make Aziraphale uncomfortable.

Aziraphale files that fact away for later, but doesn't interrupt. Which is just as well, because Moloch's answer leaves him nearly speechless. The look he gives Moloch is something close to heartbroken.

"But... but why? You wouldn't have to --" He cuts himself off, swallowing hard, and tries not to sound so sad. "What do you mean, you have no light to regain?"

Moloch doesn't really understand why he feels compelled to say anything to this angel. Maybe a desire to taint the optimism he will never have.

"I am the angel of sorrow, human sacrifice, purification, and martyrdom. Even with hope, it is only a hope to die." Moloch frowns at the sadness he hears. He doesn't want the sympathy. He wants to gouge out God's eyes and then go to his own death. "I'm what God himself fears to face. Your own death."

It is a long moment before Aziraphale replies, eyes shadowed with unhappiness. It's the same unpleasant stab of knowledge as the first time Moloch shared this fact with him, that a God would create an angel for this purpose. Hearing that Moloch only wishes to return to the Void, no matter what happens, also brings about more personal, painful memories.

I'm not giving you a suicide pill, Crowley!

Aziraphale does not envy Lucifer in any of this. Not in the slightest.

"And I'm a Principality," he notes. "I was made to lead an entire battalion of angels into Armageddon. I was made to wield a flaming sword." He gestures to himself, as if that should explain it. "Anyone can be more than they were created to be."

"We're different kinds of angels." And there it is again. The strange compulsion to explain things to this angel. It's becoming uncomfortable in it's own right.

"I wasn't made to do them. I am made of them. I am made of sorrow and the pain of torture, the loss of death. It's not the same for for us. Our duties and the power that we were formed of are the same."

It is not the easiest concept for Aziraphale to wrap his mind around, as Moloch is right, they are not the same sort of celestial being. The way Moloch describes himself, he sounds more like one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse than an angel. This truth does not sit well with him, obvious by the frown on his face and the way he twists his hands together.

"What was it like for you before you Fell? Did you wish to return to the Void, even back then? What stopped you?"

"Death didn't exist before the Fall." Moloch offers off hand. "God created death when he murdered."

He took a drink shrugging. "All that's changed is my diet and I used to care if others wanted my company."

"I'm not sure when Death came into existence on my world," Aziraphale murmurs. "God didn't create him by murdering anyone."

He looks at Moloch curiously. "Did you have any friends in Heaven?" He cared enough to possibly seek out the company of others, so maybe...?

"Then your God is a step above ours." Moloch was serious. He might be a killer by creation or nature, but he would never say he was all loving. God had been a hypocrite on that front.

"I was the angel of sorrow and sacrifice in a heaven where death and sadness didn't exist." It's a round about way of saying no, not so much for his personality but that they couldn't even fathom what he was. It had been one of the things that pushed him into the same corner as Lucifer.

"I should hope so," Aziraphale replies with just a touch angelic defensiveness. His God didn't create an angel whose soul purpose was for sorrow and sacrifice! He huffs and then settles back down, fingers twisting in his lap.

Moloch doesn't have to spell it out. "I didn't have any friends, either," he replies with a soft, rueful smile. "I couldn't understand why, I was always polite, always willing to help others... maybe I was too different, even back then. My first friend was a demon. Isn't that funny? I felt more of a connection with him in the five minutes we spoke than all my time in Heaven."

"All I've had is enemies." Moloch shrugs taking a drink though he would never admit it there were a couple angels who at least treated him with neutral curiosity or tolerance. "God created me an abomination."

At the comment about the demon, Moloch raises a brow as his gaze turns to the angel beside him. There's a smirk somewhere between proud and amused. "Is that why you talk to me? Your preference for demons?"

It would make sense given the angel was here with a crew of fallen instead of among his own kind.

"I don't consider you an enemy," Aziraphale says, very quietly, before looking away, certain that Moloch will mock him for it.

And then he blushes and gives Moloch something of a stormy look. "I don't prefer demons. I prefer anyone that I can hold a civil conversation with. There's no need to treat anyone with hostility if there isn't any cause for it, even if they are hereditary enemies."

"Give it time." It isn't quite mockery, prodding perhaps, and definitely despair.

The reddening of his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. It is enough to get a pointed gaze from Moloch's red-golden eyes. "Why the blush little angel?"

And he's right back at the games that Moloch prefers. "If it is only civil conversations I wouldn't see your rouged cheeks."

Well, that was better than being called a fool. "We'll see. Time is all we have, after all."

And time was once that Aziraphale denied his relationship with Crowley, wanting to protect him from his own kind. Moloch triggers those same urges, but considering that he's bound to find out anyway, the angel works up the nerve to answer, fussing with his collar as if that was somehow to blame for his blushing.

"My demon friend also happens to be my romantic partner. I assure you that he is the exception to the rule of demons on my world, much as I am the exception of angels."

Edited 2020-03-14 02:15 (UTC)

Azazael is Nexus Canon unless something comes up that can't be. (Will note if that is true in response)

"Hey!" Peter strolls up to Azazael with a big grin on his face. "Truth or Dare?"

"Peter!" Azazael recognizes him from seeing him around though they hadn't met directly too much. "Dare."

Why not test fate?

"I dare you to do show off your speed abilities. Do something incredibly fast... that maybe only I could see."

Azazael looks around curiously at the area and other guests. Without warning he appears to disappear, aside from the sound of feathers that suggest he flying. Azazael is using all of his angelic powers to move through the space. He yanks out one of Lucifer's flight feathers and then, unless they are having a speed challenge steals Peter's shirt as well.

He presents the dark blue four foot long feather, and if successful, Peter's shirt.

"I've stolen from Heaven before." The angel grins wide and mischevious.

"Bet you have stolen a lot of hearts too." Peter chuckles. He didn't try to prevent Azazael from stealing his shirt. It felt a little comforting for someone to touch him at a speed he is more familiar with. His blush deep enough to flush on his now exposed chest.

He is a speedster, so his body is thin, but toned athletically.

"Going to ask me in return?" He sticks out his hand for his shirt back.

Azazael turns beet red at the compliment. Unlike the other fallen he's still an innocent and untainted angel who flusters and flatters easily. He hadn't taken anyone's heart, not that he's aware of and those thoughts only make the blush worse.

He tosses the shirt back and eyes Lucifer who is staring at him with narrowed eyes. It doesn't help Azazael feel any more comfortable. "Sure. Truth or Dare?"

Peter has a weak spot for innocent and untainted. It was why he crushed so hard on Kurt, and then after he found the Nexus -- Steve. So he arches an eyebrow at Azazael turning beet red himself. And chuckles lowly.

"Pretty bold move, stealing my shirt, and not even buying me a drink." He pulls the shirt back on, and smooths out the fabric.

Peter tilts his head, and grins. "Dare." He is curious to know what Azazael will ask.

He's about to respond, some comment about the drinks always being available, before it sets in that it might be something other than a serious question. His head tilts to hide behind the brim of his hat, cheeks burning.

"Uh.." It takes the angel a moment to look up and then it is more at the room than Peter. There's a lot of options, too many. He shrugs to himself and is finally able to turn his gaze back to Peter. "Do something creatively entertaining with at least one other guest."

He's curious about the type of mischief his fellow speedster might be into causing, and to be honest there are infinite opportunities just in this room.

Edited 2020-02-22 05:06 (UTC)

"Kinky..." Peter chuckles again. Because that might lead into a lot of mischief, depending on his luck for the evening. He decides to go ask Leia if she wants to learn 80s dances

Afterwards, he finds Azazael again. "Well... I hope you were entertained."

Azazael is laughing when Peter gets back.

"Very much!"

"Glad you enjoyed it." And taking advantage of the moment, and the Dare Lucifer gave him earlier. Peter stepped in, and placed a kiss on Azazael's lips. He wasn't using his sonic speed... so of course Azazael has the option of getting out of kiss zone.

Azazael is never really expecting to be kissed. There's a muffled squeak of surprise against Peter's lips before the angel turns every shade of red a blush could possibly be. The angel sputters and pulls away with eyes as big as saucers. He doesn't even know what to do. He just stares and then gets more embarrassed from staring.

Peter shuffles his feet for a moment. Not sure how to respond to Azazael's reaction. And then shrugs his shoulders. "In case it becomes important later... I never stole anything that I didn't want in the first place."

Because the dare was to 'steal' a kiss.

The revelation that he wanted to kiss Azazael only makes the blush worse.

"Thank you." He looks away and smiles to himself before giving Peter a big hug.

Peter pats Azazael on the back when he receives the hug. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

He is not sure what else to say. There is like a Big White Elephant in the room now. And he just chuckles a little. Nervously.

"You too." Azazael gives him a big smile, glad in away to see that he isn't the only nervous one. He doesn't know what else to say either now that things are a little awkward.

Look, he just had to be here.

"Hey! Where is your better half? Ya'know… Mister Mambo Number Five?" Harley comes up to Balthazar with a big ol' grin on her face. Thanks to a dare from Cricket, she has given Lucifer a new nickname, and is going to see if Balthazar will run with it. She has a good feeling he will.

"Truth or dare?"

Edited 2020-02-16 05:19 (UTC)

"He's here! It's his place, really. Are you implying my partner sleeps around with dozens of women?" Balthazar is utterly good-natured about harassment, so he takes the nickname in the spirit of entertainment, laughing. Getting him to use it might take a little bit more of a push, but he's certainly going to mention it to Lucifer either way.

"I'm...not sure I can say you're entirely wrong, there." He and Lucifer seem to have established an understanding of some kind, not perfectly defined, but flings and one-night-stands and other friends with benefits are on the table for them both.

"Dare, though. Definitely, dare."

"Strange.... how your mind went to that as my implication. I just thought that it was the trumpets that totally have me picturing him dancing in my head." Harley grins. And steps forward for a hug.

"Okay! I dare you to kiss five different people, who are here tonight, who are not me, or Mister Mambo Number Five. But out of respect of what you have with him... they don't have to be lip kisses, unless you want them to be."

"Ahhh," Balthazar is not ashamed, but he has to concede her point. "I suppose angels and trumpets do match well together."

He laughs at the dare and sets his drink aside. "I like this one. Consider it done."

First is Sin

Second is Peter

Third is Abigor

Fourth is Aziraphale

And Delia is the Fifth.

Of course Balthazar is here! Aziraphale finds him easily enough and sits next to him with a bright smile on his face. "Hello, Balthazar," he says cheerfully. "Isn't this fun? Reminds me of a few parties I've attended over the years. I could never fully participate, of course, answering certain questions truthfully would have revealed a bit too much about myself. At the very least, it would have drawn attention from the host, which would have been terribly rude of me..."

He blinks, realizing he's gone on a bit of ramble. "Oh, anyway, I suppose I should formally ask. Truth or dare!"

Balthazar gives Aziraphale a long, bemused look as he chatters, then grins. "You've had a few, haven't you, love? No, no, I approve. Nothing wrong with loosening up."

He's been aware Aziraphale partakes of various treats, liquor included. It's just fun to see him buzzed.

The question of truth or dare, though...that's actually tricky. He's a little afraid if he takes dare he'll end up with a very celestial kind of challenge, like counting all the stars in the milky way or something. "Truth!" he chooses after consideration.

Aziraphale blinks. Had a few what? Parties? No, he means drinks! "The alcohol here is very good," he says by way of explanation. "And I don't think it's possible to be in the same room as Beelzebub and not be at least a little intoxicated."

He says the latter with obvious affection; hard to believe that this is the same Aziraphale who was all in a tizzy over Balthazar being intimate with Lucifer several months ago. He's practically family now.

"Truth," he repeats, furrowing his brows together as he thinks of something to ask. He's actually a little relieved that Balthazar didn't say 'dare', he's not as good at coming up with those, although it would have likely been very ordinary, no counting stars business or other feats of celestial endurance.

After a long moment, the angel's entire face lights up as he comes up with a question that seems suitable for this sort of a parlor game. "Alright! Who was the first human you ever kissed?" Then he sits back, pleased as punch, waiting for his friend to answer.

Balthazar laughs, nodding. "I like him. Actually, I haven't met any yet I haven't liked except Moloch and...under the circumstances I'm trying to stay neutral on him. But Beelzebub is much more fun. Possibly second only to Lucifer, there."

Although Azazael is rather sweet, too. Look at the two of them, celestial angels just settling into the family of Chaos like they belong there!

Now, that's a surprising question! Balthazar blinks and sits back in his chair with a thoughtful look. "Romantically, or platonically? Romantically, it was the nurse that taught me to dance during the first World War. She was darling. All of about 4'11", bit brown eyes, and she always wore a little medallion with Saint Elizabeth on it."

"But platonically...goodness. That must have been the first time I ever walked amongst humans, around the time of King David. I appeared at the edge of a field where there were some shepherd children, and one of them panicked and started running. Tripped on a rock and skinned his little knees, so I kissed them better."

"I like him, too," Aziraphale replies with a bright smile, in case that wasn't already obvious. Although his expression turns pensive when Balthazar brings up Moloch. He casts a brief glance in the sullen angel's direction and clasps his hands together, twisting his fingers. "Moloch makes it nearly impossible for others to like him, but he's already burdened with a terrible curse. He doesn't have as much control over his condition as I first thought."

The angel's voice is soft. The disgust one might expect from him is absent, replaced with something akin to sorrow. But he's quick to shrug that off, once he returns his attention to Balthazar.

Kissing has been on Aziraphale's mind of late, particularly because he's been indulging in it with Crowley quite frequently, and he listens intently to Balthazar's answer. "Oh, I meant romantically," he answers belatedly. "Although that's a very sweet story with the shepherd child. I've given out many kisses like that." He blushes and adds, "The romantic kisses never went so well, as you already know. Well, up until recently."

This is all Dorian's fault, or Dorian and incredible amounts of angelic wine. Beelzebub is incredibly drunk and near staggering when he B-lines for Balthazar. He doesn't say anything just puts his shoulder into Balthazar's stomach, arm behind his knees and picks him up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He wasn't allowed to say anything, but regardless of reaction, he's carrying the other angel to the make shift bar. He has no drink and that is a crime.

"Hello!" Balthazar is just perfectly sanguine and happy to see Beelzebub approaching him, even with the blend of staggering and a visible sense of purpose. "What have you been drinking, and is there any left--oof!"

He was definitely not expecting to be picked up, and there is a moment of flailing before he breaks into laughter and latches on carefully to a wing for stability. "Hang on, where the hell are we going?"

There are few people he could have approached that would be as chill as this about an unexpected grab.

The flailing almost pitches the drunken angel off his feet."To get drinks"

He just starts laughing. "I will not see shame of a king walking away from a party with full sense and an empty belly."

Dorian's seen this angel around often enough and had a few conversations with him. It hasn't been enough for him to form much of an opinion, and most of what he knows about Balthazar comes to him through the lens of Lucifer's infatuation.

He wouldn't say that he's jealous of Balthazar, exactly, but the sight of him does make Dorian feel a certain indescribable twinge of tension. It's a tension that demands he approach and make a proper greeting. (It's a bad habit, really, the way he can't help but confront any source of tension or potential upheaval in his life, however slight it may be.)

There's anything but tension in his face, though, as Dorian swings by to place himself within a conversational distance of the angel. He's all comfortable ease and grace as he holds up the pair of champagne glasses in his hands.

"Evening, Balthazar." Dorian smiles, and the gesture pulls light into his youthful face. "Can I offer you a drink?"

The first time they chatted, Dorian really rubbed Balthazar the wrong way. Casual arrogance is one of the few things that really ruffles his feathers, at least in humans. He knows, though, that Sin is very fond of this person, and she's sort of like his step-daughter, so if he can make nice, he feels as though he ought to try.

He won't be forgetting what Thnisko mentioned to him either, though. In my sister's bed and chasing after my father...

Well. Lucifer is nothing if not a grown-up and he can handle his own affairs. Suffice to say that the bright smile Balthazar gives Dorian in greeting has a number of complicated thoughts and emotions underlying it. "Right back at you," he says, then gives a little shrug. "If you think I can't find the liquor myself, you don't know me very well yet, but as you've gone to the trouble already..."

He stands up to accept the extra glass, leaning his hips on the edge of the table nearby, a casually rakish pose. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Has someone dared you to get me drunk? That's low-hanging fruit."

Dorian offers the glass over, and then shifts back on a foot to watch the angel casually. It's hard for him to tell if this angel's sassy air is friendly, or something he's otherwise projecting onto him. Either way, Dorian relaxes, posture catlike and at ease.

"I thought I'd say a casual hello. No truths or dares required, unless you're feeling adventurous and want one." He raises his hands, palms up, in a friendly gesture of mock-surrender. Dorian punctuates his words with a sip of his drink. It's not clear which glass of the night this is (he's lost count by this point) but despite that his mind feels sharp. Perhaps it's the little edge of competitiveness he feels standing in this angel's presence. "But, no. We're in each other's orbits often enough, both tend to spend a lot of time at the villa... I don't know you well," he acknowledges, "so I thought it might be a good idea to change that."

All of that's offered earnestly enough, but given that it's coming from him, part of Dorian doubts this will be as seamless as it might with someone else.

"I'll start if you like." Dorian offers his free hand. "Dorian."

Edited 2020-03-06 01:38 (UTC)

Balthazar's default setting is upbeat and friendly (if chock-full of denial); even with the Winchesters, who effectively threatened to burn him to death the first time they met, he starts off with a cheerful hello and leads from there into lightly sarcastic banter. Deeply gregarious by nature, he's found it easy to pack-bond with the other angels and not much trickier to do so with the humans around him. For all that, though, he is an immortal celestial being, and there's a lot he doesn't show.

He's basically everyone's drunken uncle or brother--until he's not, at which point he's just this side of an eldritch horror.

"Adventurous," he repeats, and grins. "Well, let me get through this glass of champagne and then we'll see, shall we?" Humans are devious. He's going to draw this out a bit and see where it goes.

"Balthazar," he responds to the unneeded introduction, clasping the man's hand and shaking it with just about as much pressure as is comfortable for a mortal person. "Formerly Ba'al-sarra-usur, but that's a mouthful and I don't regret anglicizing it."

"Now, then, at what point should I give you the glare of death and ask if your attentions toward my sort-of-step-daughter are honorable?" His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, but it's a little hard to tell how serious this question is.

"As a fair warning, I'm good at this game."

And, oh. He's charming. It's a little unfortunate that his first (and he'd say) proper impression of Balthazar is that the angel seems likable. The kind of person he'd enjoy having a casual conversation with in a setting like this.

Despite himself, Dorian laughs at the comment about Amartolósa as he releases Balthazar's hand.

"I have to think that almost anyone in the company of fallen angels would have similar answers to that." A beat. "But my intentions are somewhere between us being friends and me becoming a proper Prince of Chaos." Speaking of pack-bonding, Dorian's been resistant to it despite having the offering of family extended to him time and time again. He's similarly resistant to pinning himself down now. "She's wonderful. Kind, generous and intelligent-- but I like my space."

skekGra likes games, and the more he hears about this one the more he likes it. Dares, embarrassing situations, the humiliation of total strangers...what can possibly go wrong?

He even convinced urGoh to come along to watch! The Mystic's observing the proceedings with a little nervousness, but the Heretic is nothing but excited as he sits in his chair.

Edited 2020-02-16 02:43 (UTC)

The last target of Dorian's dare he approaches with more warning. Beelzebub is pretty drunk when he comes up to skekGra with a glass of brandy for him. A bigger target he needs to get a look at what will be the best way to approach this lifting without hitting the ceiling.

"You don't have a drink yet."

"Angel drink? I've never had angel drink. Thank you!"

skekGra is larger than the more humanoid Nexus denizens, and he's...oddly shaped. He is also not humanoid. He accepts the brandy and sips it, then offers half to urGoh. The Mystic takes a slow, sure sip.

"Well, it's not the strong stuff, but it's good." Beelzebub smiles broadly. Since coming to the Nexus, Lucifer had started making a more mortal strength sour apple brandy. Probably an unknown benefit to the current visitors with how much this angel was passing out drinks.

It takes him a minute and then he recognizes the two. "The Fi-zzgigs are happy." Even his drunk addled brain remembers telling them he would talk about the adopted creatures if they met again.

Truth or Dare: Nexus Edition

Not Nexus canon please

He can't resist

Why should he?

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belatedly answered never even saw this

It happens. I lose tags too sometimes.

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