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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.
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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
Maynard B. Phipps idly flicks his tail in casual greeting to Murkuro. Because all demons are bros...I guess.
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The demon grinned his fangs, taking Murkuro's hand and kissing it like a gentleman. "Baalberith, Chief Secretary of Hell." He then looked over at Secily again, keeping his grin. "Ah good, I didn't want to have to resort to telepathy, gives me quite the headache. But I digress, aren't you too young to be in a bar? Or did they change that while I was out."
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"Mmm, cannot argue with that logic." he noted as he set the empty glass down and demanded a second.
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Maynard B. Phipps checked his watch. And then his PA. There was not a single possession or contract being held. So as far as he was concerned, he had the time to spare. "Long story short, a demon, love." He smirked and lifted the spade tip of his tail while running fingers through his brown hair, mussing it up and revealing his horns. He looked back at Murkuro, speaking as if Secily wasn't there. "It appears not. Pity, these newer mortals, mmm?"
“
The secretary was blindsided by the girl's enthusiastic response, caught off guard mid-sentence with Murkuro. "Oh...er....certainly, if that's what you want." For a tight-ass, Baalberith was being quite friendly tonight. It must've been the alcohol, which he gulped down before tilting his head and horns within Secily's reach. "Just no 'petting', I'm not a dog."
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He sipped his drink again, listening to Secily. "A common problem, so I hear. I think I've made record of a good few 'I hate my parents, please kill them' contracts these past few weeks. It must be close to summertime." He notes the lack of drink before Secily. "So what else do you do in places like this if you do not drink?"
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"Oh I'd love to, dear, but I'm not that kind of demon. I'm just a secretary."
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Maynard B. Phipps settled into his usual spot up at the bar and ordered his usual drink. Though it might've been just now morning when he entered, being omnipresent meant that it was literally always 5'o clock to you. He overheard some mention of Satan and snorted, woman? God knows that Fallen could bitch and moan like one.
Maynard B. Phipps took a sip of his drink, his pointed, very stereotypically demonic tail swishing idly behind him. The demon removed his horn-rimmed glasses and folded them, setting them neatly on the bar before rubbing his eyes. The red irises cast a faintly hellish glow in the dimmer light. He watched the spat go on before the lady sat at the bar. A lesser demon? Oh he always seemed to run into them. "Here, lemme buy you a drink," he called to Morrigan. "I ain't got nothing to do."
“
"Morrigan does me just fine." He barked at the barkeep, ordering a fantastically girly drink (I wouldn't know. I just get jagerbombs and gin and tonics when I go to bars) for the kitsune. He nodded and offered a finely manicured hand with a golden Rolex for her to shake. "Baalberith, chief Secretary of Hell." He watched the pissy nun depart. "All times."
”
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*All kinds.
”
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"It pays well, yes. But it's quite nerve-wracking. Far too often we get a mortal that questions the terms of the contract he's made or thinks he doesn't really belong in Hell. I have to dig up the incriminating paperwork. So I have to keep it very well organized." He nodded idly to the sleek black briefcase that sat to the right of him at the bar. Today the briefcase appeared to be making muffled screams of agony.
"Oh, don't mind that. I brought my lunch to work today <3" ”
"Oh, don't mind that. I brought my lunch to work today <3" ”
Maynard B. Phipps knocked back his J & B and watched Grenville before breaking into a very sinister grin. Though there was no real malicious intent behind it, any sort of grin on the demon's face lent itself to looking downright evil. He glanced over at Morrigan and waved her comment off. "P'shaw, they never do. But you should know, are you not a demon?"
“
"Ah, there's the old viciousness I've come to expect from an infernal! I thought you were one of those New Age pussy types." He remained sitting in his barstool with his devilish grin, his eyes aglow as he leaned forward towards Grenville. He was up for some amusing antics and so he made a little 'come hither' motion. Come at me, bro.
”
“
"Oh boy, he's a loony!" The demon snickered. "Darling's free to take a bite, but I'm afraid she won't sink her teeth into much but the wall behind me." He was balancing taunting the grizzled man and maintaining dignified conversation with Morrigan, it was amazing how fluidly he switched from miasma-oozing, bloodthirsty Hellspawn to proper, quaint gentleman in response to each person. Even his voice changed from a low, raspy growl for Grenville to something akin to the Queen's English for Morrigan. His tail swished again. It was clear the Secretary was having fun.
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gah, moar
”
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"Eating flesh is a bit too messy for my tastes, but I can see where it would appeal to some." He fussed with his briefcase, a hollow growl emanating from his stomach. "Blood's an excellent medium for those with a bit more of an artistic flair than I possess."
”
“
Having discredited Grenville as a total nutjob, Phipps had turned his full attention to Morrigan. "You know that's considered illegal now, dear. No demon can eat any part of another without receiving a permit issued by the High Court. I should know, I was there for that ruling. We went through 7 Bailiffs that day before we were able to seal the accused's mouth. Goddamn Gluttony dwelle- AAAHGL! FUCK!"
The demon snarled and whipped around to glare at Grenville. Though Baalberith was immune to fire by nature, his VERY EXPENSIVE Gucci suit was not. The fabric smoldered, disappearing as the flames devoured it eagerly, engulfing the demon in flames, as if a physical manifestation of his rage. "I was going to play nice, Mortal. But NOBODY, not even the Master HIMSELF, ruins my suit."
He stood up, appearing to be much taller, having to bend to fit into the tavern. Oh shit, son! ”
The demon snarled and whipped around to glare at Grenville. Though Baalberith was immune to fire by nature, his VERY EXPENSIVE Gucci suit was not. The fabric smoldered, disappearing as the flames devoured it eagerly, engulfing the demon in flames, as if a physical manifestation of his rage. "I was going to play nice, Mortal. But NOBODY, not even the Master HIMSELF, ruins my suit."
He stood up, appearing to be much taller, having to bend to fit into the tavern. Oh shit, son! ”
“
The fire lingered on the demon's skin, peeling away the pinstriped fabric of his suit and turning it to twisted, useless chaff. It was as if the suit was a second skin, holding Phipp's true form within it, but as it slowly vanished, the skin underneath became pockmarked and necrotic, a sickly greenpink color. High ranking demons were quite terrible to behold in their true form, and Baalberith was trying to keep himself pulled together enough to not give it all away. He reached out with a needle-clawed hand and intercepted the hyena, grabbing it by the scruff and holding the snarling beastie at arm's length. He spoke through the barrier Morrigan created, his voice something of a mixture between his rasp and proper English. "Come now, Mortal. You have better things to waste your fire on."
”