#mverse;thedevilisreal

[perpetualshade]

@necr0-mantix unquenchable thirst for knowledge leads to being poisoned.

☨- Dreaming, which was not all a dream. Perhaps the nephalem was simply day dreaming. The bright sun was extinguished, shadow falls over, yet there is no blanketing of the stars. Wandering darklings in the eternal space, dance rayless, and pathless, a nightmare. Swung blind and blackening in the moonless of his peripheral. Is it in his head or was there a presence before him waiting, watching, for the right moment? Drumming deep, the voice is taunting veiled by lubricious intent. Echoing off the closed walls of the room, the entity speaks.

"You're quite a different breed of fuckery, aren't you?"

[perpetualshade]

☨- "I see that everyone is still around and kickin'. Unless what I'm staring at is a ghoul, then i retract my statement."

[perpetualshade]

Man, you sure do love making Finn, Hanji, and Nick squirm a lot!

☨- "I make no apologies for the way I season my meals before I sup. Do you expect me to partake them blandly?"

@nicholas-wolfwood @hanjithenewcommander @finncomet

[perpetualshade]

☨- "And miss out on several bodily options of 'five finger discounts' ?"

[perpetualshade]

@derringer-merylstryfe​

This was a bad idea, she thought, padding over to her dresser. Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea... But she slipped on a pair of pajama pants and picked up the small box in the drawer. She never discarded it. Who knew what could happen if this ring fell into the wrong hands.

It was a bad idea. She reminded herself. But she blew over the ring, voice soft. "Belial."

☨- The ring would give off a soft sparkling hue of crimson before drowning in obsidian. All the shadows in her home would rush forward into a large pool on the floor in front of her, alive and swirling. Until it took shape of the one Meryl summoned. Stepping out was the Devil himself. Curled horns and broken antlers on full display. Cracks in his glamour exposing his draconic features. Belial appeared with rage and on the notion to slay whoever dared caused his ex-girlfriend to summon him. 

For clearly she would only ever request his presence, if she was placed in situation that her life was at absolute risk. The cryptid had his fangs bared and predatory eyes scanning the room. In both extended claws he held his cat shaped coffee cup and one of his  marlow white sabers he’s crafted from his own essence; elated with their full purpose to loyally cut down all that would oppose their master. Both raised as he took the stance of a wild large cat protecting it’s pride. 

Only to find there was no threat... Immediately Belial dropped the god slaying appearance and looked confused as hell at Meryl who just stared him. Was he suddenly feeling nervous? Wasn’t this invasion of her privacy? He couldn't bring himself to ask what was wrong because it just has been so long since he even looked at her. Fuck she was so beautiful, even in her sleep clothes. Never mind the fact he was literally in just his tight fit boxers and a shoddy robe. 

“...Um, You--summoned me?”

[perpetualshade]

But he’s just a little guy :(

☨- "...Do you shed a tear over crushed fire ants? Do you pity a mosquito after you swat it for taking your blood? Do you allow a wasp to make its nest near your home out of peaceful consideration? Or possibly do you spare the life of a centipede when it crosses over your feet?" Belial blankly stares at the stranger. His tone condescending. "Little things like him face the same consequences for simply existing. The same way insects and bugs do when facing struggles and entities far more powerful than them. The ongoing circle of life and destruction. Some are just naturally unfortunate."

@finncomet

[perpetualshade]

@alvcrd

☨- "...Are you really wearing the same clothing attire, of the hunter that staked you? Please tell me this is not some sentimental habit you've picked up." Why were his creatures of the night getting weirder with each passing century?

[perpetualshade]

"Smellial."

☨- "Really? "

[perpetualshade]

@orangetintedglasses how many lifetimes can a plant, without water, have?

☨- Crossing multiple timelines for eons was a rather interesting parlor trick that Belial picked up a long time ago. Around the time when, well... Time itself was dubbed a redundant social construct. Both by pantheons and mortals and etcetera alike. Seeing so many versions of the same planet, in a different universe, with a different shade or bright lens. He never got bored. Especially with the planet Gunsmoke. For a place alternatively called No Man's Land...It still was infected by said men.

It did however also inhabit another magnificent species, one in particular he's talked to somewhat in passing both on the physical plane and mental. A charming younger typhoon.

"I come find you, moping on the streets. Were you robbed again?"

[perpetualshade]

mark walks over to the fridge, opening it and taking out a jug of orange juice. glances over at the cabinet of cups readily available ——— instead, he opens the jug and drinks it STRAIGHT OUT OF THE CONTAINER.

☨- "This poorly, outdated, barbaric routine of man, never fails to amaze me." Belial speaks from behind him. Dripping with acidic covered sarcasm, thick enough to melt through the core of the planet. The unrecognized deity was dressed, tailored in his gothic-coded business fashion to maim, watching him with disdain. Cigarette between his dark mystic rings- covered fingers. Watching his adopted nephew drink the juice, like a deprived animal, that hasn't seen a pool of aqua in many rainless days in the jungle.

"Which would you prefer Mark. The chuncla or a tube worth of toothpaste shoveled into that orifice?"

[perpetualshade]

How does it feel to have so many Vashs' at your beckon Lord Belial?

☨- "Beckon? I don't recall beckoning them. I flirt of course, as is my nature. I offer my open arms and give knowledge. They on their own come to seek more. Who am I to turn them away? As for how it feels? I've never been much of a dog person.

But perhaps with some training and a decent muzzle."

[perpetualshade]

Picks up a daisy, inspecting it for a second before handing it to him, smiling softly.

☨- "For me?" Belial plucks the daisy from their hand. It withers immediately. The daisy's life consumed and the petal's colors shrivel and grey. The smallest of winds flutter and carry its particle ashes, leaving only the dried up stem in his claw.

"You shouldn't have."

[perpetualshade]

“Mortals…they are so…strange to me.” - Unprompted

☨- "Strange you say."

There's a rumbling amused chuckle. Kept prisoned in the hollow-shaped cavity of his chest. Mimicking the purring of a large feline. "When you've lived among them long enough. They become quite the predictable normality. You'd expect from a kind that has limited and borrowed time." Mortals were such a interesting possession to keep in his domain. Most of them were bound in sex and violence. Feeding upon their own obsessions. Considerably always in some form of broken state.

"It's the one's that defy death. Infecting themselves with sanguine hunger. Sick with satisfaction from being mind fucked into a prolonged oblivion...That are quite strange."

[perpetualshade]

☨-  "I see the Gods have averted their gaze from you." Pity for them really. No pantheon to protect their back. Belial can see their words are stuck in their throats, gagging. Perhaps the abomination's true self was just a tad too much on their viscera to handle. Slithering shadows, alive-like, wisp around the chimera's putrid tall stance.

[perpetualshade]

@epilvgue Genuine as a hollow tree bared of it's fruit.

☨-Now here! Was a version of a certain catalyst that he didn't expect to greet. Yet the curiosity burned in his questionably existent lungs. When he watched this haunting, and let's be real, dying succulent, trudge along the sand. Belial rode up beside him, on a smooth purring, gun grey, motor bike. Not a dent in sight of it. Curtesy of his strange magic and dislike for battered toys. Unlike most of the vermin hoodlums that put together a bike from heaps of scrap and broken motor pieces. He calls out to the Vash.

"You lost searchin' for the holy grail?"

[perpetualshade]

Bel being his casual asshole self is reassuring in these trying times.

☨- "Casual? Sounds awfully too close to calling me boring." The eldritch speaks, sitting casually on his desolated throne. Molded and built with the limbs and torsos of past dictators and conspirators of times passed. Used as cushions mostly. The rest of it is burnt stone and tourmaline, scorched black by his life absorbing presence. Perhaps he should experiment differently in these trying times. Gone out the window, simple perilous soul binding contracts, in with the new age. "I could dip my claws in the claims that health insurance reaps from mortals instead."