Samuel Prince (servantofgod) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-02-01 19:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | nyx, samael |
I must be hallucinating, watching angels celebrating.
Who: Nyx (night_incarnate) and Samael (servantofgod)
What: What Uriel says, Samael does. Nyx gets to deal with an angel.
Where: Latitude
When: Monday night
Warnings: Angel in a den of iniquity bar. Awkward, if anything.
He spent a long time standing outside, just staring at the sign. It was an order and he was created to follow orders, but something about this one made him... uncomfortable. Surely God did not approve of sending Samael to a place like this - it was only just past nine and already there were people stumbling out, about to throw up on the side of the street.
Establishments like these were signs of the state of humanity today. They were a reminder to the angels of their failures. This was the home of sinners and a refuge for those who only knew of running away from their difficulties.
Samael was not welcome here.
He crossed the threshold and stepped inside, his stoic mask concealing the uncertainty and fear he harboured within.
Fake laughter and inappropriate glances were thrown his way as he made his way toward the bar, and yet all he could see and hear was a broken mask over sadness and despair. If he fell, would he be the same as all the people here?
He slipped onto an unoccupied bar stool, folding his arms on the counter, waiting patiently for the bartender to come over.
'You walk into a bar. You have a drink. You don't have to be thirsty. You smile and enjoy it when a pretty lady comes up to flirt or to buy you another drink. Rinse and repeat.
And maybe take some tylenol before bed 'cause I've got the feeling you'd be a lightweight.'
'Don't take candy from strangers. Or anything else that doesn't come straight from the bartender.'
'Loosen up. Relax. Do something that you enjoy doing, something you're not told to do. Lighten up a little.'
'Have a beer, or some fruity girly drink if that floats your boat. Ask for a shot of Jager while you're at it, that'll do the trick if nothin' else.'
Samael was in a bar. He was not on a boat. Nor did he own a boat.
His brows furrowed, but the confusion disappeared from his face when the lady from over the counter asked for his order. He kept his gaze on the countertop and did not meet her eyes.
"I would like a beer, please."