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[He's up at 2am, a usual routine by now... but oddly enough, a certain demon is slipping out to the hammock area rather than to the buffet. The hammocks themselves are abandoned, the redhead deciding instead to drop down wearily into the grass in a space free from the overhead foliage of trees, eyes trained up towards the sky.
His stomach isn't shutting up. This is also routine. But at least he's kept it out of the cabana for a little while, taking up a handful of grass and idly plucking it into his mouth.]
His stomach isn't shutting up. This is also routine. But at least he's kept it out of the cabana for a little while, taking up a handful of grass and idly plucking it into his mouth.]
[He blinks, chin tilting up as he squints toward the treeline. Who...
Oh. No, he knows that scent.]
Xiao.
What happened to the bathtub?
Oh. No, he knows that scent.]
Xiao.
What happened to the bathtub?
[His eyes follow Xiao as he drops, settling on him for a long, quiet moment before drifting back to the sky.]
They're toying with us, making it a game. I want to believe it's more complicated than they're saying. But I don't like it.
[He rips another handful of grass up.]
I got a little angry.
They're toying with us, making it a game. I want to believe it's more complicated than they're saying. But I don't like it.
[He rips another handful of grass up.]
I got a little angry.
[ The demons he's used to slaying are void of this sort of emotion. Beel, though, is a demon unlike any he's ever met. Interesting, that. ]
There are most likely layers to what they have been telling us. Nothing is ever as it seems. ... What do you plan on doing, from here on?
There are most likely layers to what they have been telling us. Nothing is ever as it seems. ... What do you plan on doing, from here on?
Mm.
[He nibbles on the handful iofgrass as his eyes trace the sky, unfamiliar stars.
What would "he" find up there in the shapes, if he were here?]
...
I want to find a way back. Someone's counting on me.
I don't know if I believe that killing anyone will be the answer. But it's not helping to panic.
[He nibbles on the handful iofgrass as his eyes trace the sky, unfamiliar stars.
What would "he" find up there in the shapes, if he were here?]
...
I want to find a way back. Someone's counting on me.
I don't know if I believe that killing anyone will be the answer. But it's not helping to panic.
Hm. I agree. Panic will not do anyone any favors.
[ He closes his eyes, tilts his head downward. ]
There must be another way to break free without giving in to the island's demands. I don't know the answer, but I refuse to believe that this is a cycle that cannot be broken.
[ He closes his eyes, tilts his head downward. ]
There must be another way to break free without giving in to the island's demands. I don't know the answer, but I refuse to believe that this is a cycle that cannot be broken.
...
Rebellion's always an option, if talking won't work and change won't come. It's just probably going to come with its own sorts of sacrifices.
I guess these administrators might know that, though.
Rebellion's always an option, if talking won't work and change won't come. It's just probably going to come with its own sorts of sacrifices.
I guess these administrators might know that, though.
Yeah. A small chance at getting more information is better than just burning that chance before it started. I get why people want to. But even rebellion doesn't have to go that far.
[...]
Well. Sometimes, that is.
[His arms cross across his stomach with a firm exhale against the night air.]
I don't understand enough to feel like I'm making a right or wrong decision on how to view it all. So until that changes, I'm going to focus on what's most important to me.
[...]
Well. Sometimes, that is.
[His arms cross across his stomach with a firm exhale against the night air.]
I don't understand enough to feel like I'm making a right or wrong decision on how to view it all. So until that changes, I'm going to focus on what's most important to me.
[It's hard to miss someone trotting up to the book cafe when they are a million feet tall but HERE COMES BEEL and he has some sort of colorful monstrosity in his hand stuffed into a parfait class. He has two of them, actually.]
Xiao, there you are.
Do you have a few minutes?
Xiao, there you are.
Do you have a few minutes?
I did some experimenting with breakfast this morning.
I know you're not used to mortal food. But I've seen you eating the plants around here. So I wanted to see if I could make something delicious for you with a lot of vegetables in it. [A nod to the glass in his hand, which has a fork already in it.]
If you want it, I mean.
I know you're not used to mortal food. But I've seen you eating the plants around here. So I wanted to see if I could make something delicious for you with a lot of vegetables in it. [A nod to the glass in his hand, which has a fork already in it.]
If you want it, I mean.
[Handing it over! It's still very warm.
The food isn't the most beautiful presentation in the world, but mushrooms and peppers and spinach have been sautéed with garlic and red onion and layered in between fluffy egg, crisp tomatoes diced for another layer, potatoes fried for another, and a sprinkling of cheese right before the top.]
The food isn't the most beautiful presentation in the world, but mushrooms and peppers and spinach have been sautéed with garlic and red onion and layered in between fluffy egg, crisp tomatoes diced for another layer, potatoes fried for another, and a sprinkling of cheese right before the top.]
[You watch her.
She's a dainty little wisp. An angel. Just like the rest of you. You know she's sneaking down to them. Down to humanity. Down to the human she loves so deeply. You've never seen her so happy.
An angel shouldn't attach. An angel can only choose one human to guard. You all know this isn't what has happened. But you don't intervene. She's happy. You love to see her happy. There's so much discontent in the heavens, and it's reaching a peak. But at least Lilith can be happy. Your precious little sister. The youngest of the eight.
And then it changes.
Your Father intervenes. You remember the echo of his voice, the judgement, the power that can't be looked on directly. Lilith had disobeyed. Lilith, loving and stubborn and courageous and defiant Lilith, had seen her human suffering to what all humans would suffer with. The touch of disease. The knowledge of death.
She had intervened. Food from the Celestial Realm, is what the archangels say. Forbidden in the mouth of man.
She has sinned. And a sinner cannot belong in the space of your Father.
Lilith will be erased.
And that alone is the catalyst you all need to start a war.
---
You're not sure how long you've been fighting. You've always been known for your strength. A Cherubim, a guardian of the gates of heaven, now forcing your way through those you would have called brothers and sisters, snapping bows, parrying swords, tossing the angelic from their steeds. You are a protector. You are here to keep your own standing against what feels like the inevitable. It's your job, for them.
Behind you, you feel the presence of your second half. Your younger twin, Belphegor, who was never made for battle, but fights regardless. You feel his exhaustion, his bitterness, an echo in the back of your head, a telepathic connection.
And to your other side, you see Lilith. She fights regardless of all of the protests of her elder brothers. She circles back to the both of you often. The three of you have always been inseparable. Always. Always.
You advance in one direction. Belphie in another. Lilith, in a third.
And then you see the arrows.
It must be a final volley. They're pushing forward too fast now. But the bows are aimed, and you know you don't have the speed to stop it. Neither do your siblings.
One. Only one. You can make it to Belphegor. Or to Lilith.
...
The arrows shoot, and you run, grabbing your younger brother and pulling him to safety as the arrows fly, tumbling you both through the blood-scented air. He stays prone. But you...
You see her. She sees you. Her face drops, in disbelief, in pain, in anguish that bleeds over her face once the arrow hits her through the wings.
And like that, she drops from the heavens in a trail of blood.
You scream her name. You hear Belphegor in suit. But the two of you are both overwhelmed in your moment of grief, swords on top of you, bows pointed, hands grabbing at your shoulders.
And you fall.
Out of the light of heaven, past the reaches of earth, down until only darkness envelops you. It sheds your wings away like knives to the skin, twists at your bones, at the temples of your head, the crux of your shoulders, the center of your gut. A thorny, heavy grip. A changing of yourself, as the pitch-black ground approaches far too fast.
You have sinned.
You have lost her for it. You have protected nothing.
It's your fault.]
She's a dainty little wisp. An angel. Just like the rest of you. You know she's sneaking down to them. Down to humanity. Down to the human she loves so deeply. You've never seen her so happy.
An angel shouldn't attach. An angel can only choose one human to guard. You all know this isn't what has happened. But you don't intervene. She's happy. You love to see her happy. There's so much discontent in the heavens, and it's reaching a peak. But at least Lilith can be happy. Your precious little sister. The youngest of the eight.
And then it changes.
Your Father intervenes. You remember the echo of his voice, the judgement, the power that can't be looked on directly. Lilith had disobeyed. Lilith, loving and stubborn and courageous and defiant Lilith, had seen her human suffering to what all humans would suffer with. The touch of disease. The knowledge of death.
She had intervened. Food from the Celestial Realm, is what the archangels say. Forbidden in the mouth of man.
She has sinned. And a sinner cannot belong in the space of your Father.
Lilith will be erased.
And that alone is the catalyst you all need to start a war.
---
You're not sure how long you've been fighting. You've always been known for your strength. A Cherubim, a guardian of the gates of heaven, now forcing your way through those you would have called brothers and sisters, snapping bows, parrying swords, tossing the angelic from their steeds. You are a protector. You are here to keep your own standing against what feels like the inevitable. It's your job, for them.
Behind you, you feel the presence of your second half. Your younger twin, Belphegor, who was never made for battle, but fights regardless. You feel his exhaustion, his bitterness, an echo in the back of your head, a telepathic connection.
And to your other side, you see Lilith. She fights regardless of all of the protests of her elder brothers. She circles back to the both of you often. The three of you have always been inseparable. Always. Always.
You advance in one direction. Belphie in another. Lilith, in a third.
And then you see the arrows.
It must be a final volley. They're pushing forward too fast now. But the bows are aimed, and you know you don't have the speed to stop it. Neither do your siblings.
One. Only one. You can make it to Belphegor. Or to Lilith.
...
The arrows shoot, and you run, grabbing your younger brother and pulling him to safety as the arrows fly, tumbling you both through the blood-scented air. He stays prone. But you...
You see her. She sees you. Her face drops, in disbelief, in pain, in anguish that bleeds over her face once the arrow hits her through the wings.
And like that, she drops from the heavens in a trail of blood.
You scream her name. You hear Belphegor in suit. But the two of you are both overwhelmed in your moment of grief, swords on top of you, bows pointed, hands grabbing at your shoulders.
And you fall.
Out of the light of heaven, past the reaches of earth, down until only darkness envelops you. It sheds your wings away like knives to the skin, twists at your bones, at the temples of your head, the crux of your shoulders, the center of your gut. A thorny, heavy grip. A changing of yourself, as the pitch-black ground approaches far too fast.
You have sinned.
You have lost her for it. You have protected nothing.
It's your fault.]
[ Xiao experiences it all, as he did with Haruka's memory, as he did with Wei Wuxian's. He experiences Beel's love, his care, his pain, his anguish from a split second decision he was forced to make with no way to come out as the big brother he once was. Xiao knows what it's like to feel like a part of you is missing; he felt the same way, when his yaksha brothers and sisters fell. Experiencing this again twists his heart in a way he was fully anticipating, but he still feels unprepared for it, knowing who Beel is now.
Beel is kind. Beel is caring and loving. Xiao may have not been there when he went berserk during Vergilius' trial, but he's always known that Beel has a protective streak. This would explain why.
When the memory ends, Xiao seeks him out immediately. ]
Beel is kind. Beel is caring and loving. Xiao may have not been there when he went berserk during Vergilius' trial, but he's always known that Beel has a protective streak. This would explain why.
When the memory ends, Xiao seeks him out immediately. ]
[It's haunting, to have this memory come back so vividly. To ruminate on the Celestial War was something he found himself doing from time to time, especially while Belphegor had been missing. But this is something else entirely. A replaying that makes his stomach turn and his heart ache.
Xiao will find the demon out on the beach, seated in the surf with his arms wrapped against himself. He'll smell the adeptus long before he hears him, a brief turn of his head, before looking back out to the ocean.]
...Mn. Hi, Xiao.
Sorry. Were you looking for me?
Xiao will find the demon out on the beach, seated in the surf with his arms wrapped against himself. He'll smell the adeptus long before he hears him, a brief turn of his head, before looking back out to the ocean.]
...Mn. Hi, Xiao.
Sorry. Were you looking for me?
[It's rather late in the evening when the text is sent out from UN: BEELZEBURGER.]
Xiao.
I'm sorry.
Xiao.
I'm sorry.
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