Alastor (
nomoreroom) wrote in
nexus_crossings2019-01-01 04:12 pm
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SUPER FRIENDLY
Christmas done, New Years over, the chance of encountering anything uncomfortably holy has diminished by a lot, and thus, what might be an disquietingly familiar crimson figure has popped back up in the Nexus again.
Just the same as he was before, that smile permanent, he's gotten comfortable in the plaza. Pretty easy to see the direction he came in from too, the snow partially melted and delicate little cloven deer hoof prints burned right down through to the ground. Rather odd, considering the obvious fancy calf skin shoes he's wearing.
"Happy New Years, ladies and gentleman, Happy New Year, hope you had a fantastic holiday, I know I did!
Say, any of you fine folks out there make a resolution? Keep it light folks, lets just have a nice fat chew here! What do you have in mind for the New Year? Don't say lose weight, if you didn't do it last year, well shucks, I don't think this will be your year either, realistic goals, folks, lets keep it light and real."
The hiss and crackle of that old vacuum tube radio and the tinny, artificial quality of his voice doesn't do much to lend to the 'lightness' of this entire scene, but hey, it's nothing he can help, nor distinctly seems to care about.
Frankly, a seven foot tall antlered anthropomorphic amalgamation of man and deer was about as un-light as one could get, but that's never stopped Alastor before.
Just the same as he was before, that smile permanent, he's gotten comfortable in the plaza. Pretty easy to see the direction he came in from too, the snow partially melted and delicate little cloven deer hoof prints burned right down through to the ground. Rather odd, considering the obvious fancy calf skin shoes he's wearing.
"Happy New Years, ladies and gentleman, Happy New Year, hope you had a fantastic holiday, I know I did!
Say, any of you fine folks out there make a resolution? Keep it light folks, lets just have a nice fat chew here! What do you have in mind for the New Year? Don't say lose weight, if you didn't do it last year, well shucks, I don't think this will be your year either, realistic goals, folks, lets keep it light and real."
The hiss and crackle of that old vacuum tube radio and the tinny, artificial quality of his voice doesn't do much to lend to the 'lightness' of this entire scene, but hey, it's nothing he can help, nor distinctly seems to care about.
Frankly, a seven foot tall antlered anthropomorphic amalgamation of man and deer was about as un-light as one could get, but that's never stopped Alastor before.
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However that's not enough to ruin his good mood. And neither does the very odd appearance of the creature in front of him. "Happy New Year to you too!" He raises a half-full bottle of beer in a toast. "You know what? Staying alive. That's my resolution. That's accomplishment enough, if you ask me. How about you? Any plans for the new year?"
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"Well if that's your goal, you'll want to ease up on the booze, son! You wouldn't believe how many liquor soaked souls end their benders at the gates of Hell! But hey, don't let me tell you what to do!
Sure I got plans!" Is he going to say them?
Nope.
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"Keep your secrets, man. I'm sure parties at Hell are a blast." He takes another sip from his beer.
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No correlation." Every correlation.
"Sure they are! Demons don't die unless heaven has something to say about it, can't beat a party where no one can die!"
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"I want to get to know my dad better. Does that count?"
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"I just found out who he was myself."
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He chuckles. "Don't think I need to lose any weight, so that one ain't an issue for me. You got any suggestions, Alastor?" Kinner will probably regret asking that question, but he's curious. What would a demon from Hell suggest for a New Year's resolution, anyway?
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It's hilarious, he's not sorry at all.
"Suggestions for you? How about takin' up a new hobby? You're going to be here a long, long time, after all! Better find good ways to pass that time!"
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He means that. He wants revenge, and he'll get it, too.
The cook turns the conversation over to a lighter subject. "Oh, I've been working on some hobbies. The fish shop's goin' well - I've been thinking of taking up guitar lessons if I can find 'em."
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"Alastor. I don't have any goals set aside for the new year. Just keep doing what I'm doing, more or less." She shrugs her shoulders calmly. "Speaking of holidays, I did think about you while shopping around for holiday gifts. If you don't mind hanging around, I can head home and grab it." It sounds weird offering another demon a gift, but they're friends, right?
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He doesn't even lower his voice, sorry Marie.
"Same as it ever was, huh? Hey, that's understandable, just another day, a new number to write, another calendar in the garbage."
He wasn't expecting a gift though. He genuinely looked intrigued at the idea.
"Shoot, Marie, I'm touched, absolutely honored you'd remember little old me for Christmas. I'd have been here but I like to be home for the holidays." For... obvious reasons.
"Sure sweetheart, sure! I'll be here all day."
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Aren't resolutions meant to be broken as well? Not like she'll mention that directly, but still...She just manages a smile, unfazed at the fact that the deer wasn't around for the holidays. "Well, after we last talked, I couldn't help but feel we shared a similar bond. It might seem uncharacteristic of our types to give gifts to one another, but I see it as a formal sign of respect. Give me just one moment and I'll be right back with it."
She's already grabbing her PINpoint, returning home, but without a few minutes, she's already back at the plaza looking not much different than before. Except now there's a box in her hand, wrapped in red and green paper. Inside is a gift card for one of the nicer suit shops in the Nexus, in case if Alastor wants to chance up his wardrobe. There's also some neatly wrapped New Orleans themed treats, like praline candies and beignets.
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(Balthazar, what are you doing?)
Gods and monsters are of indifferent interest to this particular angel, but an actual demon? He has to check it out, with full knowledge that this could result in violence that either or both of them might regret. In his own world, your standard-issue dealmakers and crossroads demons are small potatoes, compared to him, and he has not a thing to fear from them. The higher up the echelons you go, though, the riskier it gets. If he's facing the equivalent of a Knight of Hell he's being a complete idiot even showing his face.
But then it's the Nexus, so it should be a moot point. Should be.
"I was thinking of expanding my drinking repertoire to alien liqueurs, and maybe learning to cook something that isn't a breakfast food, personally, but when it comes right down to it, I'm not much of a goal setter. You?"
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Dealmaker and crossroads operator that he was, it'd be unwise to consider the former human turned demon to be standard by any stretch of the imagination.
But Alastor wasn't here for a fight, and the Anti-Violence Field ensured it'd stay that way. Just here to have himself a good time.
Balthazar would find that smile unmoving, just as wide and wild as it was when he got here, unconcerned and certainly not put off by the angel's appearance. In fact, judging by how those long, bushy ears swiveled about to point at the angel, it seemed to be quite the opposite.
"Well look at what we got here! Didn't see you the first time I stopped by!
Didn't even know angels could drink, how about that! Maybe your goal can be keeping a goal this year.
Resolutions are for folks that need 'em, friend! Can't fix what isn't broke!" He's perfect, thanks.
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He just doesn't see the point. He's not a Guardian Angel, after all. Only has been once or twice before, short-term. It's good work when you can get it, but some days it's hard to care about the human species as a whole, let alone individuals.
Meanwhile, depending how Alastor's senses work, he might note that Balthazar is well-hidden within his human vessel. His wings will occasionally cast vague shadows, but it's never a good idea to whip them out in public. Someone is bound to go blind. His natural form is a ring of fire and eyeballs, which would beg questions even in a place like this.
"Technically, I suppose it's not me drinking so much as my vessel," he says thoughtfully. "Given that I'm not really corporeal so much as a wave of celestial intent. But I get to taste it through the body I'm borrowing, so I get some enjoyment, at least."
"Ah, I thought you were asking about other peoples' resolutions because you needed suggestions for your own. Merely prurient interest, then?"
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He thinks about Alastor's question. New Year's resolutions? He has to have a few..."I'm goin' to start up my new business this year. Bright and early. I'll be sellin', uh, plants." Palmer's pretty sure this being is a demon, so he's not expecting moral judgement for his poor life choices. He wonders, offhandedly, if they have weed in Hell.
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"Yeah? Is that so? Well what kind of plants, son? Roses? Potatoes? Tomatoes? The devil's grass? Sure is a lot of stuff to sell when you go into the plant business, which is it?"
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Palmer manages a knowing smile. There's a lot of plants out there, that's for sure, but he's only interested in one.
"Devil's grass? Are you talkin' about weed? Because, yes, I'm going into business selling weed. Hey, far as I know there's no rule against it here, and I'm an, uh, enterprisin' kind of guy."
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"Didn't figure this is the sort of thing you'd celebrate."
It's kind of funny to think of anyone in hell giving a shit about holidays. Or maybe they just make their own. He quirks an eyebrow at the mention of a resolution but what exactly can he say or try that he hasn't already told himself to try a million times before? He already tries harder than most anyone he knows to be decent.
And yet...
"Why set myself up for failure, bro? If I've learned anything it's that there's not a lot of a point to this kind of thing."
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"What, New Years? I don't! But when in Rome!" Hell didn't care about the changing of years, not really. Hell changed with its inhabitants, not by the passage of time.
Alastor, after all, could barely progress past the 30's.
"No plans in mind? Just going to rot?"
(can we say triggered boys and girls - yes we can)
Then the voice resolved into a seven-foot tall man-deer hybrid, and Dale managed to relax. A little.
"I... uh. I don't make resolutions any more," he managed, looking only a shade less pale than he had been a moment ago.
lmao
Usually it was the other way around.
"Anymore? What happened to change that? You dead, kiddo?"
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"I mistook you for someone else," Dale replied then, with a small flourish of one hand. "Someone I don't really want to be dealing with right now. Apologies, it must seem incredibly rude of me."
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