Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-07-27 07:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint patrick |
Who: Patrick and Beelzebub
What: Talking about shiz
When: Monday afternoon
Where: Walkies!
It may have been terribly hot outside, but Patrick still had to take Downpatrick on a walk if he didn't want the terrier to soil John's floor. And he didn't feel as if that would endear him to the other man very much, not that much more endearing was really required. So he did his dog-owning duty, walking the excitable dog out the front door of the apartment building towards a small park so Downpatrick could run about a little.
He was a little surprised when someone fell in step with him and when he looked up he was even more surprised to find Beelzebub beside him. He had been expecting maybe Legion, but not this. His throat tightened and Patrick wondered if he could turn and run and make it back to his apartment before the demon killed him.
Instead of running, Patrick cleared his throat and he chose to be polite with the hopes that he would be spared by being cordial. It was the right decision. "Hello, Beelzebub. Hot, isn't it?" Inwardly he barely dared to breathe, waiting for the demon to react.
"Not compared to Hell!" Beelzebub said cheerfully, strolling beside the saint as if he hadn't a care in the world. And indeed he didn't appear to be suffering from the heat at all. "How does today find you, Saint Patrick?"
Patrick continued to walk, as if this was completely normal. This wasn't at all what Patrick had expected, but he was going to go with it. Downpatrick barely noticed Beelzebub as he was too busy smelling everything as they passed it and wagging his tail at strangers. "Oh...fine."
"You know, I prefer to have people call me Baʿal," Beelzebub said with a grin.
And the demon was still talking. So Patrick kept talking too. "Doesn't that mean lord?" When Beelzebub nodded, Patrick added, "well you'll have to excuse me for not calling you that then." Patrick flinched inwardly again, but no revenge came from the demon for his refusal.
"Ah, you Christians and your commandments," Beelzebub said with a laugh. "You know I was a god once? Of the city of Ekron in Philistine. I was Baʿal Zebul, until a certain prophet took issue with a king seeking my advice instead of the advice of your God. Then I became Baʿal Zebub. Lord prince to lord of the flies. God to demon."
"...sucks," Patrick said, since he had no idea how to even start responding to what Beelzebub was rambling about.
"Hah!" Beelzebub stopped and he grabbed Patrick's arm. "I like you, saint. You're tiny and strange."
Patrick glanced at the grip the demon had on his arm and then he pulled Downpatrick back, since the dog was doing his best to get away from him towards a hot dog vendor on the corner. Patrick fished for words and finally came up with, "I'm...sorry that people made you into a demon."
Beelzebub licked his lips and then he said, "public perception changed both of us, didn't it, Patrick?" and he arched an eyebrow at the saint, meaningfully.
Had the demon really just rambled on about all of that as a way to explain that they had common ground? Patrick wasn't sure what to think of it, but he was starting to believe he might get out of this without having to call Michael and whine for help. "I suppose it did," Patrick said with a small smile.
"Luckily being a demon works for me," Beelzebub smiled right back. He dropped Patrick's arm and the two of them fell into step again, crossing the street to the park. "My brothers seem to have an interest in you, Saint. Why is that?"
Patrick sighed and he took a seat on a bench, indicating that the demon could sit beside him. With Beelzebub settled, Patrick tried to explain. "Like you said, public perception hasn't been easy on me, and there was a time when it got the better of me. I wanted everything to stop, but I didn't see a way out so I went to Satan and Lucifer to ask them if there was a way to just...stop existing. I wanted to die for real. They offered me a deal. My soul for nothingness, which I know now they never would have actually given me. And Michael burst in, guns blazing...well- Sword blazing. And he stopped everything and I think I'm the One Who Got Away and it pisses them off. And once I smart-mouthed Lucifer and he doesn't like that."
"It wasn't particularly intelligent," Beelzebub agreed.
Patrick snorted and he shook his head. "I expect it wasn't. So that's the story."
"And now you're with the prophet, you no longer feel the desire to sell your soul?"
"No," Patrick affirmed. "Or...yes. I mean I don't feel like selling it, no."
"I don't blame my brothers, I suppose. The soul of a saint would be a great prize indeed. But there are so many other souls out there for the taking. You saints are lost causes. Your souls are already claimed. The job your religion gave me is to taint, and it's quite difficult to taint something already completely pure. Unless you blindly hand it over."
"That won't be happening."
"It's your choice!" Beelzebub said, holding his hands up. "I'm not here to sway you one way or the other, I was just curious as to what made you so desirable to the others is all. To me one saint is the same as the next with the exception of your prophet. And that is just because we have history. He helped make me what I am." Beelzebub grinned then, clearly showing he had no hard feelings for being what he was. He rather enjoyed it.
Patrick relaxed visibly and he arched one pale eyebrow at the demon. "So...you didn't show up to try to...hurt me or mess with my head?"
"Unclench, Patrick. I wouldn't waste my time," Beelzebub shrugged. "Futile efforts don't interest me. I think you've got balls and that amuses me, as you are very small. But you didn't run from me. And Famine seems to be fond of you, not to mention the fact that you take Legion out for ice cream as a way to pass the time. They're a handful and a half, and you seem to handle them fine."
"I'm...glad my balls amuse you," Patrick said and then he wished he hadn't until Beelzebub laughed loudly. Keeping the demon laughing was probably a good idea.
"I am going to go get a hot dog from that vendor back there. I will bring you one too and one for your dog and then you can continue to amuse me."
"Uhm...okay," Patrick nodded, confused as to what was happening. He did as Beelzebub asked though, and when he returned home an hour or so later, he was full, safe and he had managed to have a conversation with a demon that didn't involve any sort of threat. And Patrick didn't hate that.