Azazael was not concerned with appearances, nor was he particularly worried as to how he was seen by the eyes of the public. The games of tact and which-tie-best-illustrates-my-point were for the politicians, and Azazael left them to it. No, rather than take on the appearance of a dignified man with broad shoulders and chiselled features, as was this year's popular Form, Azazael chose one that was a bit more to his taste.

For the past few centuries, Azazael had adopted the Form of a young boy, perhaps eight years of age, with a dark complexion, darker eyes, thin eyebrows and silken black hair that was cropped evenly at the chin. His appearance was somewhat Egyptian, and somewhat Greek, and also a tad eerie. It was an unorthodox combination that was entirely authentic amongst other demons. However, Azazael's position, not necessarily of power, but the general respect he earned on a day to day basis, as well as the friends he had in high places, made him untouchable.

Standing at roughly 3'3, Azazael was almost more intimidating short than he was tall. He carried himself in a manner that spoke of the respect he had, and those that looked down at him were considered disrespectul

Despite (and due to) the fact that Azazael took the Form of a dark-skinned eight year old, he was to the day the only demon that that others knelt for.

Lucifer, though he was of much higher rank than Azazael, knew that to offend the demon would be disastrous to his career. Azazael was a dangerous friend, especially to one such as Lucifer, but a much more dangerous foe. Therefore, Lucifer honoured Azazael's opinions and respected his wishes.

And positively resented the childlike demon.

Azazael positively resented the figurehead. However, despite his hatred of the deceit and false friendships he was exposed to much too often, an established friendship with Lucifer was necessary. The need for this went beyond Azazael's personal opinions, it was something much more important and established than that.

As for what exactly that is, it will need to wait for another time, as it's very much a secret.

Azazael entered Lucifer's cavernous study, a look of distaste displayed openly on the youthful features. He picked his way delicately across the Persian rug as though it was moulding, despite the fact that it was perfectly clean and priceless beyond human means.

The abundance of frivolities disgusted Azazael, but he endured it each time he needed to speak with the demon. Lucifer liked to think he was important, and he liked others to think he was important. It was the perfect attitude for a figurehead, which is why he was one.

Lucifer heard Azazael's approach from his throne of a desk chair. "Good day, Azazael. Can I help you?" His tone, though welcoming, was also dismissive.

"Yes." Azazael said, ignoring the tactfully placed new chandelier that belonged to Luxembourg royalty, and would for the next eighty-seven earth years. He was probably meant to compliment, but pointedly refused to look at the obstruction. "You condemned him, did you not?"

Lucifer stared for a long moment at Azazael, doing his best to keep annoyance from his face. He did an awful job of it, Azazael noted with satisfaction. "Yes, I did." Lucifer left out the part where he had done his best to keep from condemning Beelzebub.

"Oh." Azazael said in a noncommittal voice, an even expression. He promptly turned tail and left, exiting the vast chambers with their finished wood floor and the showy chandelier.

He had some work to do.