(no subject)

[leucemic-god.livejournal.com]

Date: March 9, 2003(?)
Status: Public - Complete
Setting: Manor grounds
Summary: Loki starts to practise.



The bar was getting boring. There were no customers there at the moment and the amusing barkeeper had apparently quit. A sulky waiter from the restaurant was filling in for him running between the bar and the restaurant all the time and aside from getting tripped by a well placed foot from time to time not providing any entertainment. Loki needed something else to do.

He'd spent most of the morning reading up on sphinxes and angels in his attic hideout, so maybe it was time to get some exercise. He had promised the Sphinx to hone his shape shifting skills after all.

For this first attempt after his long illness he'd take a familiar and easy shape he decided. Besides the lawn looked like it had practically been made for a horse to run and graze on. The still falling rain had turned the ground muddy and inviting for a quick roll. He'd just have to remember to get back inside once the water got through his think horse fur or he might catch a cold.

So Loki walked out the door into the rain humming happily.

Comments

[leucemic-god.livejournal.com]

A funny taste? What difference did that make? Well, on second thought it was probably quite important, if you were going to drink it, but in Loki's opinion it didn't qualify as a limit.

"I bet your cultists like it, though," he said and then he remembered something else. "Say, your cultists wouldn't have anything to do with the old chapel on the third floor, would they?"

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

"My cultists?" he asked, a bit incredulously. If Loki was referring to the Satanists that had so inconsiderately left the slippery residue all over the Manor, then he was sorely mistaken.

"You mean the Satanists? I don't know anything about those. I haven't had a proper following in at least a millennium. Not really my thing." For all he cared modern cultists could take a long drop with a quick stop.

[leucemic-god.livejournal.com]

"Sounded like you had a lot of opportunity to impress them, though." Loki shrugged. "Being Satanists does make them followers of your faction, though, right?"

It didn't really matter to him whether they were Belial's personal cult or the power was filtered through Satan. It might turn out useful to know who would have advantages or disadvantages from the presence of the chapel, though.

On the other hand he still liked Belial.

"Having a personal cult would give you some independent power, though," he suggested lightly. "Leverage against those who hold you, or a failsafe should the power of your pantheon in general falter."

Probably not something the Judeo-Christians were worrying about just yet, but Loki met many gods and he knew how religions rose and fell. Belial's had held strong much longer than most, but it was past it's peak and would start feeling it eventually.

Edited =P

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial snorted derisively. "Hate to break it to you. Not how we work."

He shoved his glass into the center of the table and dismissed it without looking at it.

His smile was sharp. "I have enough leverage, clout, and power to be taken seriously without a bunch of mindless humans getting their muddy little paws in on my slice of the pie." He paused here, tapping the table. "I don't need humans to believe in me to feed off of them."

Business, it was always business talk, and he tired of it. He looked towards the bar, then over at the clock. "Excuse me," he said politely, standing and giving a little bow of his head. "I have work to attend to, and my break is long over."

[leucemic-god.livejournal.com]

Loki remained sitting there for several more minutes trying to figure out what Belial had meant. A religion that didn't need belief didn't make sense to him. It just couldn't be.

So had Belial actually meant something else, or did he believe that he didn't need belief?

It confused him and made him worry for a being that was obviously a lot more powerful than himself.

If he had at all been in the habit of being honest at least with himself, he would have had to acknowledge that the very fact that he liked and trusted Belial should have been an alarm signal. The people he felt that way about at the very first meeting tended to be people who reminded him of the one that had taught him all about trust and honesty - the one he'd always trusted the most. His children had payed the price for that trust. All except one.