Religion and glitter?

[tryingitall]

Balthazar has settled into the Nexus fairly quietly. It's a place more or less to his liking, he must admit. Chaotic without being violent, plenty of entertainment and liquor and people to talk to...

It's not home, and he's not going home, since this is apparently what he gets as an afterlife. That's more than a little depressing. He's already missing his siblings. Still, this might be better than oblivion. Time will tell. In the meantime, he's found or purchased assorted craft supplies, including markers and crayons, heavy paper, glitter glue and paint. And dry pasta.

"So, how do we all feel about religion?" he asks with aggressive cheer. "Do you have one? Would it bother you to discover something here that contradicts what you believe?"

Pause. He pokes at whatever he's working on with a little frown. "...and if that's too heavy a question, come look over my shoulder at this. I need critique."

He's been gluing and painting and glittering farfalle with reckless abandon. "Does this look like a bunny? I think it looks rather more like a unicorn threw up after a trip to the Olive Garden, but I'm still an amateur pasta artist."

Come to think of it, is there such a thing as a professional pasta artist? If so, he wants to meet one.

Comments

[ixis]

"A sorcerer, actually, but I'll forgive this slip in the terminology this once." His ear twitches once, a quirk up and then another back down, twisting before falling back into neutral placement. Pricks at his ego are always meddlesome, but he can see a conscious effort to do so for what it is, right? And besides, he's got other tricks up his sleeve, versatile 'magician' that he is. The large gemstone on the end of his staff may give off the faintest of glow and folks in the immediate vicinity may feel a profound, gradual increase of their negative emotions. Such as rage or disgust at horrible wizards playing god, for instance.

Why does he do this? Because he can..

"I'm sure I'll do better with the next incidental and completely irrelevant race that may spring up the next time I make a world for myself."

[tryingitall]

Angels are immensely, terrifyingly powerful beings. Even fallen ones like Balthazar, out of the reach of Heaven and with somewhat reduced power levels on account of it. You could shoot him or stab him with an ordinary blade and he might not even notice. They are, however, quite vulnerable to magic.

Balthazar has the benefit of usually knowing when magic is being cast on him, simply because of his previous specialization in enchanted weaponry for his garrison. However, Ixis is subtle enough, and he's agitated enough, it might take him a minute to notice what's going on.

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," he says, oozing smugness. "Your sort always does like to pretend you know what you're doing when you tweak with the laws of reality. Ultimately, all you are doing is throwing things at the wall until something sticks. And then if you find it's repeatable, you think you've uncovered the secrets of Creation, when you're more like a mouse in an experimental setup that's discovered the button that delivers a peanut rather than an electric shock."

Chuckle. "It's rather cute, but it's not godhood. Shadow puppetry, perhaps. What shall I call you, then? Houdini? David Blaine?"

There's a sound of rustling feathers around him as his wings bristle and flutter.

[ixis]

"Sounds like someone has some issues with their own creator, if I had to make a guess. Let me guess even further: you or your race was deemed as inconsequential as those goblins that I left to Feist? See, this is the problem with gods in general. We shouldn't be beholden to them or revere them even if they did have a hand in our creation! A shame that lesson didn't stick with the Zone of Silence natives." Or one he never bothered to teach them?

At the continued jabs at his apparent lack of actual mastery, the mage instead takes this chance to draw himself up to his full (not very impressive) height and take a flourishing bow. "Ixis Naugus will suffice! Sorcerer supreme and master of the elements. So kind of you to ask for what the proper name and title is."

The spell of negativity keeps up its subtle flow in the meantime.

[tryingitall]

Ooh, ouch. If Ixis was looking for a sore spot, he's found it. Balthazar can't actually argue with his logic here; even if he wasn't being magicked, he might have to concede he has a point. On the other hand it is so fundamental to his programming, this idea that he was created for a purpose, by a very specific Creator, he feels a deep-seated sense of guilt for daring to doubt. Even a Fallen angel is still an angel, apparently. At least, the ones from Balthazar's world seem to be so.

Angels don't do well with Doubt. They do even worse with cognitive dissonance. In light of how he's being pushed, it was inevitable he'd snap back, and Ixis may not be at all surprised when the angel rises to his feet. The sudden flick of his arm and the triangular blade that appears there may be unexpected, though.

"I'm the angel Balthazar," he says through clenched teeth. "And I'll thank you not to talk about my Father like that."

Religion isn't just religion when it's about family, you see.

((Unless Ixis de-escalates--haha, not likely, I'm guessing--he'll certainly lunge next tag, just as a heads-up! And his energy will have a bit of a 'holy' flavor to it, but feel free to use the AV field however you like to keep them apart. Or not. You know me, I'm game for whatever.))

[ixis]

((Ohhh, haha this'll be good. Naug doesn't do well with holy/light magic!))

His red eyes flick from the man's furious, twisted expression to the weapon that's been conjured. It'd fallen in the brief moment he took to size things up, but the mage's smile slowly creeps across his face again like a jagged zipper. "Father? Oh, Vale's bones, you're really in deep, aren't you. Well, since I feel uniquely qualified to comment on it from my former vantage of demi-godhood, I'll give you a little help in working through these feelings for your god. Just a little insight."

Naugus leans forward, hand up near his mouth as he stage-whispers, "He doesn't care about you. You're an inconsequential speck. Less than an afterthought."

[tryingitall]

If Balthazar had any basis from which to reassure himself that what Ixis says is untrue, he might be able to hang on to snark and bluster and come out of this with temper and dignity intact. The sad thing is, he doesn't. What he's seen of his reality suggests that if his Creator is still around, He's lost interest in the angels at least. Possibly in the whole damned setup.

Talk about cognitive dissonance. Something in him, down to the core of his Grace, says it's cruel and wrong to be abandoned, but something else screams back how dare you presume to complain about the Almighty? Perhaps there's a bit of Lucifer and a bit of Michael within every angel.

But Ixis is coming from a vastly different perspective. If Balthazar were able to form coherent words at this point and cared to explain his point of view, it would probably do exactly zero good. So it's totally okay that he's enraged beyond ability to restrain himself any longer, right?

Electric appliances nearby are sizzling and crackling, some failing catastrophically as Balthazar's energy washes over them. The ozone-and-petrichor scent is very strong now, and the shadow of his wings is suddenly visible, cast long and dark across the floor. And then he's lunging across the table he's been working on, scattering glitter and pasta everywhere as he reaches to grasp Ixis by the throat.

[ixis]

The sparks and lights are suitable distraction, enough flash and commotion that the wizard is caught off-guard, looking with confusion at a nearby bursting television set in a shop's display window. The hand clasping around his throat, however, snaps his attention well and good back onto the enraged angel. He manages a hiss, like an angry feline, before the fingers press into his throat and cut off his air.

But that doesn't mean he's not ready for a fight! Why pick one if you're not prepared? His staff is swung around, not to strike the other man, but to aim the gem at his stomach. A swirling light gathers into and around the purple chaos emerald before firing a heavy blast of energy. Hopeful to at least knock the angel back and away, maybe do some damage as well as a bonus.

[tryingitall]

Ixis may notice the grip to his throat is very strong. Far stronger than it would be for a human, which is what Balthazar appears to be but isn't. In fact, it's a safe bet he could bend steel with the one hand, and the fact that he's not doing more damage with that throttling grip than he is may be an indicator that he's not completely out of control yet. Or maybe the antiviolence field is just inhibiting his strength a little...

The burst of energy is not completely expected, and it hurts! Balthazar tumbles back with the force of the blast, although he rolls to his feet easily enough, like a trained fighter. Still, the brief noise of pain he makes is probably very unpleasant to anyone in the vicinity: a low rumble coupled with a shrill, tinnitus-ring at a high decibel level. Several yards away, onlookers caught by surprise clap their hands over their ears.

He's not sure if he's been injured, or how badly. His Grace doesn't appear to be leaking, and his vessel seems only bruised, but the pain lingers. That's magic for you. Always a fun surprise.

As he recovers his feet, Ixis may notice he isn't breathing hard. Or at all. While he's stationary, he tends to use his vessel like a human would use his or her own body, taking in air, blinking, fidgeting. Now he's out of that headspace, and it's a little creepy, how the body moves more like an exceptionally well-piloted puppet. Behind him, though, his wings are spread, semi-corporeal now, just a light blur in the air, and he rattles them like a peacock rattles its tail to make itself look bigger and scarier. It makes a lot of noise, and a puff of hot wind.

[ixis]

That noise is distressing to anyone in the vicinity, but imagine having marvelous, giant bat ears and you hear that. Ixis Naugus' jaw drops and his ears snap back, twisting away and flattening to try and mitigate the pain, but it doesn't help much. Looks like someone's going to have some hearing loss for the remainder of this battle, and maybe a good while after it's concluded. Assuming he walks away from it, of course.

When he manages to open his eyes again, his ears twitching frantically one way and the other, instinctively swiveling to try and pick up any sound and only hearing a tinny ringing. And the sight of the spread wings, slightly see-through but clearly there, is a momentary pause, uncertain if his sight has been tampered with as well. But the wizard shakes it off quickly and readily, lowering his stance and grinning once again. "Eye for an eye, then!" he croaks, louder than he should thanks to not even being able to hear himself before his hand snaps outwards, then back towards him, clenched in a fist. The action drains the air from around Balthazar, a dire situation for anyone who breathes. But...Well, let's see how much his lack of observation towards the angel's lack of doing so costs him.