nexus_crossings | A Strange Afterlife

A Strange Afterlife

It had to be impossible. He could feel his skin. A pulse beat under his neck. He stood in front of a store window and regarded his reflection in the glass. Same black leather outfit. Same brown trench-coat. The fabric weight down on him and he rubbed his arms as he tried to figure out what was going on. A wandering spirit had doors to enter and exit when it came to the world of the living, but he'd never achieved something like this. It was alien and wrong and he had no idea where anyone was.

Mantis sighed, marveling quietly at the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing. It didn't matter. He'd keep moving and hope for the best. If this was some punishment for a misstep, he knew exactly who to take it up with.

"Sorrow!" Even his voice carried an echo. Mantis pointed himself into a new direction and began to walk. "What did I do this time, old man?"

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He remembers Vulcan Raven. The birds. This person has powers of some kind. He meets the gaze of the hawk and gets the faintest sense of a massively heightened intelligence. Raptors were often like that, even on Earth, but even this bird wasn't ordinary.

His gaze shifts to the blind man as he moves. Code Talker had eyes like that. Milky white and somehow able to see everything going on around him. Maybe it would be like Code Talker and The End and others like them. Mantis couldn't find any sense of danger, merely of power. Whoever the man was, he was the stronger one between them.

The mention of brethren makes Mantis shiver. He can't begin to fathom what others might be in this strange Nexus.

"Sorrow has similar trouble with me. I was strong in life. Death didn't do much to lessen my power."

The long, curious gaze and even the brush of the other's presence reaching out doesn't bother the angel. He's used to some amount of this behavior from most beings. Why should any of the beings here be different.

"It seems every creation has the same kind of fool." That is another revelation that was hardly surprising, but Belial has a question lingering. "Sorrow is a necromancer?"

It's enough to make Mantis feel secure enough that he's not completely on edge. His shoulders start to relax as he gets used to the man's appearance. Those wings were massive! He can only imagine, for the moment, what it might look like if they moved.

"Medium. In life, he talked to the dead. In death, he has even more power over ghosts. I'm considered 'restless' and still dangerous, so he keeps a eye on me."

It's not that he didn't earn the attention, but he doesn't have to like it.

Belial looks confused by the answer, even the hawk cocks its head. "Talking to the dead and having power over the dead is the definition of a necromancer. Is the definition different in your creation?"

Though at the comment about dangers he shrugs disinterested. "I am called the great corruptor. Titles and the views of others are sometimes skewed."

"It fits, but that's not what we call people like him. He's nosy, but necromancer usually has a more malicious intent behind it where I come from. He and I view ourselves as psychics."

Mantis is put off by the dismissal of being dangerous, but in a very grateful way. It's strangely comforting to know someone is willing to look past that warning about him so easily. "I've thought that over the years. The next great warlord doesn't stay that way for long."

"Everything outside of human perception is given a malicious meaning." Belial frowns slightly. "My kind are used to the only description for us being considered evil. It doesn't change that the words are right."

"I see the way others apply words to others more for fear's sake or to gain control in some way. I've given up on caring what others say."

Mantis feels a smile pulling towards the corners of his mouth. He can appreciate that someone owns up to their actions and how they effect others. More so can he appreciate one who maintains their sense of pride along the way.

"I try to warn people as a habit. It's not always easy to predict how people will respond to past actions. Maybe the longer I might have lived, the more I would end up thinking like you."

"Your situation sounds like the opposite of mine." Belial's expression is unchanging but the curiosity is there in the hawk's body language. "I'm accused of more than I've done. It's exhausting to constantly have to argue that the propaganda is wrong."

Mantis is paying more mind to the hawk now. He can kind of get how the arrangement works, but not enough to be certain. "People make up rumors about me. Sometimes it's based in reality, but usually it's painting me as being far more mystical than I am. People seem to get the impression that if you can read minds and cause trouble for others, you're more of a demon than a person."

"More of a demon than a person." Belial repeats with an exhausted sigh following it. "I know this all too well. We didn't obey something against our nature and are labeled demons by many."

The hawk has taken note of Mantis' increased attention and returns it with an interested gaze. Though Nychta and Belial are separate beings with thier own minds, those minds are tightly bound together and constantly sharing information.

"I like to think I've had time to get over that a little. Outside of a vendetta that finished years ago...it's exhausting. I've lost some of the bite I used to have."

It hardly seems polite to stare into the eyes of someone who plainly looks blind, and the hawk is clearly sizing him up somehow. Mantis feels an instinct to reach out his arm to offer as a perch to the bird, but he doesn't. He pulls his mask off, just a little, to see the man and the hawk clearly. Maybe there's something to be seen that he can't with the lenses in the way.

"I'm sharpening my teeth." Belial responds flat and slightly venomous, though not at Mantis.

Belial reaches up and pets the hawk and for the first moment there's a suggestion that the winged man and the bird are 'talking'. The feathers of Belial's wings look nearly identical to those of the bird.

There's a pause and then Belial brings his attention back to Mantis. "Nychta wants to know why you wear a mask."

Truth was the bird disliked not being able to see this person's face.

"I hope the biting is worth the wait." He means that with all his heart. Sometimes people just need to destroy in order to feel whole again.

Pale grey eyes widen and Mantis slides the mask a little further away, now completely exposing his eyes and the upper part of his nose. He doesn't dare take it off further, lest the telepathy get away from him and he accidentally read either mind before him.

"Burn scars. I was a child and it...never really healed correctly. I don't like having my face exposed. It's vulnerable."

"It will be." Belial is certain that, at least for Lucifer, the vengeance will be worth any wait.

Belial watches the mask and uses his sleeve to smudge the black face paint he wears on the upper half of his face. There are burn scars around his eyes. They weren't from fire but holy smiting, close enough.

"A lot who live here bear scars from their lives elsewhere."

Mantis's eyes perk up slightly in amusement. That's the kind of confidence he can admire in a statement. It fades, however, seeing the paint getting smeared. His own lack of soft tissue truly paled in comparison to what the man had clearly lost.

Mantis sets his own mask back into place. "Scars very rarely go away. Even if I had managed to fix my face, I would remember what it had been." He nods to the hawk. "Is your bird kind of like a seeing-eye companion?"

"Ours can't be healed but I've adapted." Belial doesn't mind them any more. Some angels still carried heavy burdens from their disfigurements. "Nychta is his own being but my brother and King bound our minds. I see what he sees and we can share thoughts like we're one mind."

"Nychta. I can hear the word 'night' in his name. It suits him." Mantis shifts his attention back to the man, if just for a moment. "King sounds powerful. Minds are a difficult enough thing to read, let along meld into some state of unity."

"It's Greek to honor our heritage." The angels these days saw themselves more closely aligned with Greek and Middle Eastern paganism than the Christianity they were part of.

"My king is Lucifer Morningstar." Belial continued to scratch the bird. "We've relied on mental communication since our creation. It's more natural to us than speech when we're alone."

Greek heritage. Lucifer Morningstar. Mantis had only been raised in such stories for a short time, but he never quite forgot them. The wings had a whole new meaning to him now, but he couldn't find it in him to be afraid of the name or the implication.

"People told me stories about Lucifer. He never sounded like a bad person to me. He wanted his freedom and ran with it."

"Not all Lucifers are the same." Belial remarks if only because they are in the Nexus and who knew what being would show up. "My brother has his moments. With respect and understanding he can be a wise, understanding counselor."

Belial didn't think the other side of the statement needed to be expressed. He stops petting Nychta and smiles faintly . "I'm High Chancellor Belial. Lucifer's advisor."

"Belial and Nychta." Mantis bows his head a bit more formally than he's used to. "I only go by Psycho Mantis these days. The name given to me at birth holds no meaning for me."

Angels. Monsters. Gods. The mere concept of more than one Bringer of Light. Mantis is starting to get used to it. "I'm assuming you are usually referred to by your name. I wouldn't want to offend an angel."

"It's a pleasure, Mantis." Belial has formality from being a diplomat but he's also very relaxed, usually.

"I do, but that is the choice of the individual angel." Nychta and the angel look out onto the rest of the area. "The Celestial and Fallen beings currently residing in the Nexus are more relaxed. We exist here in unity either serving or standing beside our king."

Belial stops there because that could be an intense topic for someone to accept; peace between Heaven and Hell, or at least their angels.

It doesn't bother Mantis at all. He's long reached the point where intentionally stirring the metaphorical pot is an exhausting prospect. The idea of peace being reached somehow among such traditional enemies almost gives him some hope.

"Anything can happen here. I might even have a good time being away from Liquid. Being dead doesn't leave much room for things outside of talking to those who are likewise on your current plane of existence, but I've got good company and plenty to watch where the living are concerned."

"Removing God from the equation has proven to be adequate to remove the historical rifts." God did cause many of the issues.

"It's my understanding that there are many dead walking here." Belial pauses and considers clarification. "Both in the manner of undead and those who are dead in their home realms but live again here."

"A well-intentioned leader is sometimes the worst." Big Boss, he's thinking of you. Man was a legend, and rightfully so, but he wrecked lives all over the world.

"I haven't felt hungry in such a long time. Food isn't something I expected to miss, but now it's all that I have on my mind." And sleeping. And smelling. He's been a bit sensory deprived on the other side of life. "This place is interesting. I might stay a while."

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