(no subject)

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Date: August 12th, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Manor, Bar
Status: Private - Belial, Remus
Summary: Fuming Demon meets Werewolf. Conversation ensues.



Belial's hand hurt from scrubbing tables. He'd worn the skin on his thumb a shiny, raw red from pressing it against the grain of the wood.

His skin still smelled, beneath the layered scent of cleaning supplies, like that blasted angel, despite his every effort to remove it. He began to stink of it--but maybe it was only in his mind.

It was late, and he'd barely noticed, the darkness hardly penetrating his meditative concentration on cleaning. There'd been no patrons for several hours, and he thought should probably close up. His eyes lingered on the window for a long moment and he wallowed in the pervasive silence.

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[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

Remus entered the room from a back door, feeling very self aware. He was wearing jeans and a worn dark flannel cloak that was soft and soothing. It was quiet and getting late, and he'd just woken up and wanted some food. Sustenance. Something.

He felt ridiculously shy. Twice this man's age and he was still too nervous to step out of the shadows to greet him. Or ask for food, which is what he'd come to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled shyly at the man, who smelt strongly of cleaning supplies. Remus wondered if everyone in the establishment did so, including him. Although, he had a reason - his last client had liked. Well. Things not meant to be discussed in polite company.

"Do you have any food?" he asked hopefully. "I'd take liquor but it hasn't been discussed in my wages and I haven't received a paycheque yet." He shrugged, suddenly aware of his threadbare dark socks (shoes weren't practical when one needed to be stealthy.)

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial froze at the stranger's cough and dropped the rag he'd been holding, looking a bit put out that he'd been caught unawares.

The man's very presence gave an agonized impression of falling apart. Belial's eyes darted downwards to his feet, where the socked toes curled inward at his gaze, and then back up.

He tilted his head to one side and considered the man.

"I'm sure I can manage something... and make a bit of an exception in the liqour department," he said, a smile breaking across his face, making his dark eyes shine, for the first time in two days. "What would you like?"

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

Remus smiled, his long fingers rubbing at the scars on his face. "Thank you very much. Could I have some rum and for food... anything you've got. I'm not picky, and I assure you, I'm very hungry. Starving, even." He smiled again to make it less awkward.

Remus inspected him. He was a handsome man, really. Someone who looked like tending bar was a side job from, say, underwear model. Or a vacation from.

"What brings you to Tadfield, young man?" Remus asked, fingering his wand idly in its small thin pocket (sewn into the cloak by himself, ages ago). "It doesn't seem like the place for someone so... glittery." He covered his mouth. "Oh. I'm sorry. It just popped out. But you do have a touch of glitter by your left temple."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

He paused and stared at the man for a long moment, appraising, then gave a broad smile. "A vacation, from my... desk job," he said. "And the glitter is fairly normal for me." Most of it had probably rubbed off, anyhow.

Belial gestured, producing a bottle of rum with a date that a collector would be hard-pressed to match, and two shot glasses. It had been a good three thousand years since he'd indulged in gluttony and sloth. He found his mind wandering back to the thought of that bloody angel and yanked it firmly back into the present.

"How do you feel about Chinese?"

Perhaps it was about time.

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

"Chinese would be brilliant just now," Remus replied, looking hungry.

"It must be quite a vacation," Remus commented idly, drumming his fingers on the countertop as he looked at the rum and shotglasses. He was pleased that he had guessed somewhat correctly. Deskjob? He wondered. "Been a long time since you've had a vacation?" Remus asked pointedly. He gave Belial a Look, and poured himself a drink.

"I won't bother you, though. In fact, I won't even ask what kind of deskjob has you wearing glitter on a normal day." Remus smiled cheekily and took a sip.

"Have you met many customers from the hotel yet?"

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial managed to produce a meal that would have fed a pharoh's harem, if not his eunuchs, without a thought. Wonton soup, szechuan chicken on a bed of white rice, and shrimp chow mein for starters, with a side of breaded honey chicken soaked in syrupy sweetness.

"It's been a few millennia since I've had a break," he said, settling himself into a chair next to the odd man and stretching lazily. He considered the question for a moment, and shook his head. "It's not been busy here, really. Most of the action is happening in other parts of the hotel... I just clean tables and serve drinks."

He leaned forward to scoop some of the chicken and rice onto his plate. Blinking, he looked up at the man. "I'm sorry. My name's Belial--it completely slipped my mind to say so."

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

Remus looked up at Belial as he ladled food onto his own plate intently. "Nice to meet you. You don't have to apologize - it obviously slipped my mind as well. My name's Roman."

He dug in, too hungry to question where the food had come from. "The people I've met," he said, "probably overindulged at one point or another in their evening. It's a common phenonema." He thought over it as he chewed.

"Belial... That's a very odd name. Crown of Satan, is it?" Remus said, eyes twinkling. "I read quite a bit, you see. Was your mother religious?

"And this," he said, gesturing with his fork towards the food, "is delicious."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial leaned forward, interested. "Roman? Like the lettuce? Or is that Romano?" he asked, trying not to crack a grin. He leaned his elbow on the edge of the table and punctuated his question with a vague jab of his chopsticks.

"I've found it true that humans, in the courses of their lives, rarely decline to take an opportunity to overindulge in something. Even the most virtuous," he said, "can overindulge on their zealousness."

Belial grew quiet, and made no attempt to answer this Roman fellow's question on his origin. He could smell the lie on the man--but it was a small one, and perhaps Roman had his reasons. It was not for Belial to judge.

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

Remus smiled. He noticed the omission and ignored it. He was not in a position to press, after all.

"I think I've always been one to decline actually, but I bet every person you say that to says as much." He took another bite, suddenly aware how fast he was eating and made a visible effort to slow down. "Well. It wasn't as if I've had much opportunity to, uh, overindulge anyway. Usually if you're in my field of work you are doing so to feed yourself-" he nodded to the food "-or to support a bad habit. I'm afraid my bad habits may have got me to this point, if they aren't actively keeping me here."

He laughed suddenly. "Sorry to be so grim, Belial. It's not often I get the chance to talk freely. What was that you were saying about lettuce?"

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

"It's not important," he said suddenly, smiling brilliantly. "And I know what it's like to be stuck on a job. I'm not quite... bound to my employer by choice. I have, so to speak, an unbreakable contract. It's Hell," he sighed, giving Roman a steady look, then let it dissipate into a wry smile.

He noted Roman's quick appetite and visible effort to restrain his hunger, and chuckled suddenly. "If you're really that hungry, I can feed you."

Belial twitched his chopsticks, flicking a grain of rice towards Roman playfully. "Consider it my good deed for this millenia."

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

"For the millenia?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrows. "Now that sounds like an interesting story." He liked Belial. So sensible and, er. Glittery. Remus wished he had a bar of chocolate to offer him.

The werewolf looked down at his empty plate and grinned ruefully. "Well, if I eat anymore just now I'll be sick, I'm afraid. However, would it be possible for me to come back tomorrow or much later for food? I mean, since you offered and there doesn't seem to be any other arrangement."

He looked up at Belial, amber eyes glinting like the glass of rum in his hand did. "It sounds like it is. I'll bite my tongue about my curiosity for your job though. My experience of a desk job sounds different than yours, for certain."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

He smiled back at Roman, appreciating the odd man's respect of his privacy. There was something odd--and animal--about him, but that could be understood.

"You can come back anytime. I'll be here--I hardly ever sleep," he said, understating the fact. "I've no use for it."

He swirled a minute tornado of rum in his glass, gazing steadily at it. "If I'm not, you're welcome to come find me."

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

Remus sensed his cue to leave. He nodded, grinning suddenly. "Thank you, Belial, for your sparkling company, your delicious meal, and your generous rum." He stood, gathering his felt cloak to him, and took a last sip from his glass.

"I really must get back to my room," Remus said, regretfully, straightening his clothes. He started to turn, stopped and surveyed Belial, looking a bit surprised at the sad expression he saw writ in the demon's slightly glittery face as he watched rum spin idly in his glass.

"You look like you're unlucky in love," was all Remus offered, when Belial looked up, and then he was off, disappearing down the darkened hallway from whence he came.