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Maynard B. Phipps

AKA Baalberith. The chief secretary of Hell, he's in charge of keeping records of possessions, contracts, etc. He can be present everywhere and anywhere a demon and mortal make an accord, so he is a very busy man. He could do with some loosening up.

0 · 247 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by SaintQ

Description

Phipps is a man, standing 6'2, dressed in a finely tailored Gucci suit with a black tie and gaudy white shoes. He's a built man, looking as if he takes great pride in his appearance, but really, that's just the way he chose to look. He hasn't done a single bench press in 8000 years! His eyes are an unmistakably demonic red, but obscured somewhat by Oliver Peoples horn-rimmed glasses. Phipps just doesn't give a shit if people see him or not, so he makes no effort to hide the twisted horns that sprout from his hair, nor the spade-tipped tail that flicks casually alongside his legs. He is quite physically attractive by human standards, and has used this to his advantage to coerce people into writing even more terms and clauses into the contracts they strike.

Personality

Being a demon, Phipps is clever and devilishly charming. He can swoon a lady just as easily as he could lop her head off with an axe (not that he'd do that and risk blood spatters on his suit!). He is a hard-drinker and recreational drug user, with a 'what do I care, I'm immortal!' attitude.
But he is a man who is VERY serious about his line of work. When he puts on the business pants, he is cold and unfeeling, sacrificing whatever empathy he may have to ensure that the Devil gets his due. It is impossible to bargain with him, because he is the original stubborn mule.
He isn't as ravenous as his kin, and rarely eats at all, even to keep up appearances.

Equipment

Phipps carries a sleek black-leather briefcase that seems to have no limit to the amount of papers it can hold, as well as inkwells and quills to notorize any agreements made. His briefcase contains records of EVERY possession, contract, and temptation ever made since Lucifer's Fall, from the expulsion of Adam and Eve to the kid who stole a candy bar just 5 minutes ago. His job is very important.

History

Phipps has always been and always will be. In the courts of Hell, he is the highest appointed pontiff, but he is only summoned for extreme altercations, and usually a double takes his place. He really hates sitting and doing nothing, after all. He has the ability to become omnipresent, as it is part of his duty to act as a witness to any agreement between demon and mortal. He's also there if a mortal attempts to wheedle out of a contract or feels they are wrongfully in Hell.

“Did you READ the fine print?”

Baalberith has had it with your shit, now get on the boat!

Even so, his job can be quite stressful, as more humans whine and bitch about contracts and more demons make their way to the surface and attempt to perform unauthorized transactions, so he appreciates any instance he can to loosen up. He'll usually send at least ONE facet of himself to a bar constantly, to drink the stress away.

So begins...

Maynard B. Phipps's Story

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#, as written by SaintQ
Maynard B. Phipps is aroused from his stupor by the barkeep, and the demon orders his usual with a chuckle. "J & B, on the rocks." He seemed a bit out of it, likely due to one of his other selves having to deal with a particularly stubborn corrupt priest. Why didn't people ever bother to read the fine print? Sigh.

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#, as written by SaintQ
 The man sat up and knocked back his glass, coming out of his distracted state now that business had been taken care of. It would only last for a few seconds, he was sure of it, but for now, it was perfectly unbusy. He savored the moment with a cigarette, drawn from a classy silver case and lit with the touch of a fingertip.

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Maynard B. Phipps puffed at his cigarette, watching people in the bar. He wasn't the type of man to get into things, unless he was summoned, so he was perfectly content to play spectator.

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Maynard B. Phipps orders another glass, but pauses at the open invitation to drink. Oh, what the hell? He could afford to loosen up a little bit. Gripping his ciggy in his teeth and glass in his palm, he made his way over to Maelik and his magical skeletons. He just wanted the booze. The Chief Secretary does not dance.

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 "Thank you very much, sir." The suited demon grinned, offering some help with the adjustment of the skeletons' top hats. He stubbed the cigarette out on one of the many skulls before flicking it to the ground before turning to Nell and slipping the man a hundred. The bill smelled faintly of brimstone, but all the money in Hell does. "For your trouble."

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Maynard B. Phipps nodded at Maelik. "Sadly, it seems etiquette is a dying art. I swear I caught one of the newer kids trying to write a contract up in chatspeak! Chatspeak! I wanted to smack the sod!"

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 The suited demon held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Ah, no thank you. I don't dance, it's hard enough keeping balance with these horns sometimes. I'll just enjoy and drink, thank you."

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Maynard B. Phipps was oddly familiar with Nickelback. They were played in Hell often. Hehe.

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 It was then that Phipps realized that he'd left his briefcase sitting at the counter! The entire history of all demonic transactions was in there! In a mild panic, the horned man dodged around tables to recover the briefcase. Hell only knows what sort of problems it would cause if seen my mortal, or worse, heavenly eyes.

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Maynard B. Phipps tucked the case underneath his arms. "Oh yes. Very much so. Let's just say...if I lost this, I would be raked over the coals, quite literally." He adjusted his glasses, sliding them back up the bridge of his thin nose.

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 "Different strokes for different folks." The secretary sipped his fresh J & B.

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Maynard B. Phipps pays Nell another sulfur-smelling hundred, just in case the first one was not enough. He's feeling awfully generous this evening!

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Maynard B. Phipps notes the man falling off the stage, but being a demon, he didn't make any move to be helpful. That was a job for a Good Samaritan.

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 With a sigh, Phipps looked at his watch. Another summons. Somebody selling their soul for fame...again. Time to get going. He left his final tip on the counter and with a nod to Maelik, shuffled out of the bar. Good night!

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Maynard B. Phipps settled at the bar before ordering a simple J&B on the rocks, just like a certain psychopathic businessman. His tail swished lazily at his feet as he sipped his drink and surveyed the area.

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 The secretary kept his eyes fixed on the entrance to the bar, watching as all sorts stepped on through it. With a bit of a grunt, he withdrew a cigar from an inner pocket in his suit jacket and lit it with the tip of a finger. It didn't take long before he had a fine set of smoke rings going. For once, there were no deals tonight. The mortal world was unusually quiet.

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 Once again, the secretary arrives, his briefcase tucked up underneath an arm. "Oh dear, two steps in and already drama. I'll never understand you mortals." He chuckled, affectionately.

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 "J & B on the rocks, please." Phipps ordered of the barkeep, contenting himself with the cocktail nuts within arm's reach. It wasn't that he liked to eat them, or even needed to, but it was something to do at least. He stuck out his tongue, red and forked like a serpents, before placing the salty treat onto it, and then another, before pulling them into his mouth. "Eh..." he mentioned to himself. "Not even comparable."

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 Phipps settled on Secily as she entered the bar, resting his head on his hands as he swiveled to talk to her. "Well well well...aren't you too young to be in a bar, my dear?" He recognized that type from the hair, must've been some new fashion among younger mortals. Last time he'd cared to take notice they were forced into corsets!

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 The demon secretary tilted his head at Secily, not quite sure what to make of her as he swigged his J&B some more. "Do you not speak?" He turned to Nia and shrugged at her at her demand. "Threaten them with hellfire. Works for me."