neutral_omens | (no subject)

Date: August 17th
Setting: Tadfield Manor Bar
Status: Public - Adam, Belial, ?
Summary: Adam continues his trip through the Manor

Adam ran through the dining room and paused in the bar to catch his breath. He sat on one of the stools and put his head in his hands. The anxiety and doubt assailed him from all sides.

What had he done? Had he just frightened away one of the few real friends he'd ever had? Wensley and he had been friends for fifteen years. Was that all over?

He knew he had set up this safe place to protect people, but was it crossing the line? Eight years ago, the right thing to do was nothing at all. He had chastised others for meddling. Well, wasn't that what he was doing now? What suddenly gave him the right to use his powers and interfere? He didn't want to be hypocritical, but weren't his friends in more danger this time because everyone knew he was the real antichrist and not Warlock? What difference did that make in the real world?

Not even the fact that he had tried to make the place neutral was much of a justification. He knew he was being selfish in rearranging things for his own benefit at the expense of everyone else, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

He groaned, wishing for a drink. Maybe this was Hell and he just didn't know it.

Threaded | Flat

Belial was, somehow, not at all surprised to see the Antichrist lingering about the Manor, and even less so to find him in the bar.

Ineffable, he supposed, setting down the tray of clean glasses that he needed to put away. The Antichrist was a boy--a young man, really, and looked no odder than a young man should have at first glance--but he was different. His eyes held something strong and infinitely ancient.

And Belial knew--he'd done all the paperwork.

"Might I be of service?" he asked smoothly, presenting Adam with an empty glass.