(no subject)

[tryingitall]

Who: Balthazar (or Mirror!Balthazar), and OPEN
Where: the gardens
When: Wednesday-ish
Rating: PG-13-ish?
Summary: Balthazar is just having a nice little booze picnic. The Mirror version is looking for information.



Armed with a blanket from his room, a cooler of beer and bourbon, and a set of sidewalk chalk he retrieved from his closet, Balthazar has found a place to settle, amidst the garden he first stumbled through when he arrived. Now he's in a better state to appreciate the beauty. They may all be in a prison, but at least it's a pretty prison, and well-stocked with comforts.

Anyone who comes upon him will be offered a drink, of course. The later in the day he's found, the more elaborate will be the chalk design he's sketching onto the brick path. It's not recognizable as any specific person or item, just a tangle of color and repeating patterns. Maybe it means something to him.





Leviazar is not interested in alcohol, except as a tool to lubricate social interactions and get others' guards down. He's even less interested in chalk art. Today, he's stayed inside, despite having seen his real depart for the open air. There are other people to watch, on both sides of the mirrors. But a close observer on the realside may catch him tracing Enochian sigils in steamed-up glass, with the tip of one finger.

Comments

[tryingitall]

Balthazar may be one of the few angels with any kind of knack for putting people at ease. He likes to think it's his charm, but ultimately it may have more to do with his relative indifference to the kind of cosmic-scale events that most of his brethren are forced to attend to and fret about just by virtue of what they are. He'd rather talk about the difference between a merlot and a shiraz than the questions of fate versus free will.

Usually.

When Susan looks up after dropping that little bomb, he's regarding her with a quizzical expression. He's spoken to the Death from his own world. Not long ago, in fact. Obviously they're from different places, but it's still hard to picture Death with a family. He's not sure where to begin with questions. "Well, you're beyond my realm of experience now, but you seem quite lively to me. And...thank you, I suppose? They can be bright enough to burn out the eyes of living things. I'd feel guilty if I were walking around doing that here, unintentionally."

[no_nonsense]

"I can imagine," Susan replied and politely ignored his curious expression. "I'm glad I've never had to worry about something like that, even if the idea of unassisted flight is somewhat tempting."

Generally, Susan wasn't one to just provide personal information. Truth be told, she generally loathed discussing any aspect of herself that might label her abnormal...but she had never had to discuss it with anyone non-human. Everyone non-human on the Disc already knew who she was, and anyone who didn't generally figured it out very quickly, she was the opposite of a mystery. Non-humans, oddly enough, had always been a strange exception to the rule, she never minded talking about anything with them. Whether this was because they couldn't judge her as anything less than Normal or because she quietly considered them as such, it was impossible to say, but they were a definite loophole in her reluctance.

"If you're wondering: Yes, I am alive," Susan assured him, finally. "Not undead, or displaced, or anything of that sort and, as I said, mostly human. I'm just...partly...not."

That last word was like pulling teeth and Susan took a deep breath after she was out with it. Admittedly, awkward as it was, it was mildly pleasant to have someone non-human who knew. She was used to dealing with any number of mythical people who knew and, despite herself, their absence was something of a burden.

"Mostly the whole thing just results in awkward holiday dinners and a truly tacky family crest, really, when you get down to the bare bones." She paused and then idly motioned to him. "That and I can see, well, everything. It's really less appealing than it sounds."

[tryingitall]

"Assisted flight is more fun, if you ask me. Easier to look around and enjoy it." He manages to put the curious stare under wraps, going for another drink as she explains.

"That wasn't what I was thinking, actually. I was just trying to see a resemblance, and failing. My apologies, I didn't intend to be rude." He takes a thoughtful gulp of beer, then smiles and shakes his head. "Awkward holiday dinners, hm? That I can sympathize with. If I ever learn to cook, I'll roast you a turkey and attempt to make up for the deficiency in cheer."

Now that he's aware she can see his wings, he seems to be a bit more careful with them, keeping them folded loosely but neatly behind him, where before they were sprawled out everywhere. When she motions at him again, they flick and stretch, almost an unconscious acknowledgement of the gesture.

[no_nonsense]

"Oh, he's never lacked cheer," Susan said after an appropriate pause, her expression just a touch exasperated by the memory. It was like fondly recalling, well, a doddering relative...more than like, in fact, that was rather the whole of it. "He just never gets the hang of it, it's all too Human for him."

She laments the careful folding of his wings, somewhat, but she'd stared long enough as it was.

"However, if you learn to cook, I will take you up on that offer. It's not an activity I'm particularly fond of, myself," Susan added and gradually pulled the conversation toward slightly more Normal topics. She'd nearly finished her drink but, pleasant as this all was, she probably wouldn't remain around for another.

"Is that how you spend retirement, then? Picking up various creative endeavors?" Susan asked and her voice was laced with a tacit sort of approval. Learning was a sensible goal, especially for people who weren't generally mortal.

[tryingitall]

"Hm. There are some factions within my family that court an active contempt for humanity. I see what they're driving at, but the longer I've lived on earth, the more comfortable I get with the mortal set. Don't spread that around; I have a reputation to uphold." A reputation for calling the Winchesters by the names of various primates, at least.

"I can cook pancakes and omelets," he says. "And I can make extremely mediocre pasta. I don't actually have to eat, so I haven't had much practice."

Taking another gulp of drink, he shrugs. "I didn't expect to last this long, to be honest. But...yes. That, drinking, and partying are the main things I've been up to. Long-term, I'm sure the artwork is healthier."

[no_nonsense]

"It is less likely to result in a violent death.... Well, in theory, at least," Susan agreed casually. She'd seen enough art-related parties to know better than all that, though, but it was usually safer than the regular sort of carousing. She shifted the topic as she finished her drink.

"Shape defines a lot about a person," Susan said after a beat. "I know quite a few of the Myffic sort who would disagree, but being human shaped is enough. Eventually, if you stay human shaped, you start being human."

That was utterly true, in all its possible facets and interpretations, but she felt the need to defend it after a moment of silence.

"It's not all that bad, honestly," she added. "Nothing else seems to live with quite the same fervor."

[tryingitall]

"In theory!" He laughs appreciatively. "Most of my lot were well-enough adjusted, but I know what you mean."

He frowns a little, pausing to think about what she says. It makes some sense, and he can't help wonder if it holds even truer for angels. Not only are they mimicking humans, they're living within their bodies, however temporarily. What does that say about him? Castiel? Gabriel? Anna?

"I wouldn't want to lose my power. My perception." He purses his lips, and nods. "But you're right. I think I understand why my Father favors them so."

[no_nonsense]

Susan really tried to reign in her skeptical look, honestly she did, but it was reflexive. Hearing people talk about how their gods favored humanity was like hearing about how intelligent their pets were: you understood that they had deep and abiding love for the subject matter but you just couldn't bring yourself to give half a whit about the tricks they could do or how especially they liked something or another. Still, Balthazar had been very pleasant, so Susan hid her expression as best she could by finishing her drink.

"Of course, I can't imagine that would change," Susan assured him and firmly moved back a point in the conversation. "It just seems that they start thinking more like humans. Rationalizing, lying, tricking, loving, that sort of business. It can be quite dramatic if a thing's not used to Life on whole...."

Susan halted herself, here, because that particular experience wasn't one she felt like recounting any part of. Just pondering the Auditors was enough to ruin any given day and this one, magic aside, had been shaping up quite nicely.

"...But, this, I think, is a topic for a day with less pleasantness and general creativity."

Susan inclined her head toward him.

"And, I should really be going," she added after a beat. "Thank you for the drink and conversation."

[tryingitall]

"No...no, you're right, there." He smiles wryly, although to be fair a certain degree of rationalizing, lying, tricking, and loving seem to be native to angels themselves.

But it's not the most pleasant topic for him, either, so he stands and offers her a hand up gallantly. "Of course. I wouldn't want to keep you from other entertainments, either. But I'd be happy to chat again sometime. I'm on the fifth floor, if you're ever looking for me."

I hope this is okay. c:

[no_nonsense]

Susan hadn't been expecting assistance, but when he rose and offered, she accepted it. It didn't occur to her until after she'd taken his hand and stood that they were standing in the middle of a very large, very colorful piece of chalk artwork. Chalk artwork that he had done. The kind that involved same sort of chalk that was liberally coating his hands...and now partially coating her own.

She stared at the appendages for a second (it was that dry, resigned sort of stare that asks 'why did I do that?' with the knowledge that the outcome is merely inconvenient and, besides, there's no help for it now) and then turned her attention back to Balthazar.

"Thank you, I shall keep it in mind," Susan answered politely. "And to you as well, though I've taken up residence on the fourth." She gently extricated her hand and, very pointedly, didn't look at it as she moved it back to her side. There was no sense harping on it, after all, it was only chalk. "It's been a pleasure, I hope the rest of the afternoon is as...productive for you."

of course!

[tryingitall]

Oops. He wasn't thinking, there. Hopefully the dust comes out of fabric and off skin easily. He looks sheepish, but since she's moving off he doesn't offer to fix that for her. "Indeed! I hope to see you again. Possibly even indoors."

He gives a slight bow, by way of farewell, and shoves his dusty hands in his pockets.

[no_nonsense]

"Indoors, how novel," Susan remarked in her best attempt at passing, friendly banter. To say she was inexpert at it was to do everyone who had ever engaged in the activity a considerable disservice. Rather than continue with her attempt, she returned his previous gesture and bowed. While the whole action wasn't much deeper than his own had been, it was done with the surety of someone who came from a place where such things were still done.

"Good day," she wished him finally, politely dismissed herself, carefully picked her way around the artwork, and left by way of the path.