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

[rosco_coltrane]

"Teaching kids right and wrong is out of favor?" Rosco asks indignantly. "How're they gonna know how to stay out of trouble? Shoot. That's the silliest thing I've heard. I can't say I know much about them, either. I've never married."

He sounds a bit depressed, saying that. Rosco wishes he did have a wife and children. He's not sure why it's never happened. He looks absolutely perplexed by the description of angels and demons.

"Oh. Well. I think it might be different where I come from. I'd have to run that by the preacher and I haven't spoken to him in a couple of months."

[tryingitall]

"No, just that particular means. Spanking, switching, belting. Whatever." He makes a dismissive gesture and picks up the scotch bottle at his knee, refilling a glass tucked amidst the craft supplies.

"Do you care for a drink? There's enough to share." Which is to say, there's not enough to get Balthazar as drunk as he'd like to be, so he may as well be social.

"It may well vary from world to world. Just trust and believe I'm not a demon, and I've no interest in dragging anyone to Hades, since that would involve having to go there myself. Oh, and don't let me influence whatever faith you do have. I'm not interested in causing existential crises."

[rosco_coltrane]

"Huh. Sounds fishy to me, but that's just my opinion," Rosco admits.

He brightens at the offer of a drink.

"Well, thank you. I'd appreciate that."

He considers the idea of the rules being different on different worlds. He's just not sure about that, but he's no theologian. He figures God knows the answer and that's good enough.

"That's fair enough. My name is Rosco. What's yours?"

[tryingitall]

Unfortunately, as happy as he is to be generous, Balthazar only has the one glass. He looks around as if hoping another will spontaneously appear for him, then gives up and just hands Rosco the bottle. It's not as if he could possibly have anything that would be contagious to an angel, anyway.

"There you are. Just don't go over your own limits; I don't want to have to drag you to detox. And they call me Balthazar. Well...originally, it was Baal-sarra-usur, but Balthazar is easier to say, I find. Charmed to meet you."

[rosco_coltrane]

Being a country fella, Rosco isn't fazed about drinking from a bottle. He takes a healthy swig, giggling a bit.

"Shoot, I come from a county that specializes in moonshine. It'd take quite a lot to knock me off my feet," Rosco assures him, grinning. "It's good to meet you, Balthazar."

[tryingitall]

"Moonshine!" He looks strangely delighted. "I've tasted legal moonshine once or twice. It's very strong, isn't it? Do you know anyone that makes it?"

He may be looking for lessons. Look, he's bored, he needs something to occupy his time. It's even harder to keep busy when you don't require sleep. "Oh, and that's a top-shelf Scotch. Glenmorangie. But don't be intimidated by that. Swig away."

He favors expensive liquors, himself, but he's capable of drinking and enjoying just about anything.

[rosco_coltrane]

"Legal moonshine? What fool went and legalized it?" Rosco asks, puzzled and a bit indignant. Some things are just traditional. "Half the point of moonshine is that it's illegal!"

He snorts with laughter at Balthazar's question.

"I don't hardly know anyone who doesn't!" Rosco tells him, taking another swig of the Scotch. He smacks his lips in appreciation. "Moonshine is powerful strong, but this is good stuff, too! Thank you!"