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Well. I'm not really sure what the "Bible" is. And I've never heard of angels or heaven. But I saw this quiz on

evankasparov's journal and it was telling him that he was Satan (no "e"), who apparently rules Hell in this "Bible" thing. Well, shit. That was amusing. So I took the quiz.

And what do you know? I got the same result.

I'm assuming there are other villains you can get, but I think this one's fitting, all things considered. *can't decide whether to smirk or giggle*

Satan
You scored 60% Pride, 70% Envy, 60% Ambition, and 62% Deceitfulness!

You are Satan, the consummate villain, and the ascendant figure in the
unholy trinity. Throughout history you have been called The Serpent,
The Accuser, The Devil, Lucifer, The Prince of the Power of the Air,
and The Dragon, among other things. Your “compatriots” in the unholy
trinity, the Antichrist and the False Prophet, are merely pawns in your
futile struggle with God. Though, they probably don’t know this. This
is because you are a master of deception; indeed the Bible calls you
“The Father of All Lies”. You are also very ambitious, and you strive
to be in positions of the utmost authority. Unfortunately, it was
impossible for you to obtain the highest title in heaven and this is
part of the reason why you decided to leave. Of course, you couldn’t
just leave by yourself, so you managed to use your deceptive abilities
to get one third of the angels in heaven to join with you in revolt.
God put down the rebellion and expelled you from heaven. To most
people, it would seem foolish to start a war against God, but pride can
sometimes cause people to do foolish things. In heaven, you were the
most beautiful and powerful of all angels and you were well aware of
this. Unfortunately, you let your pride consume you and your passions
led you down the road to perdition. After you were expelled from
heaven, you let another one of your attributes consume you—envy. You
knew that you could never defeat God, but you could attempt to destroy
humanity, his most beloved creation. Your goal is to bring as many
people as possible to suffer in Hell with you. Fortunately for you, but
unfortunately for the rest of us, you’ve been endowed with all of the
attributes necessary (deceptiveness, confidence, ruthlessness, and
ambition) to do a terribly good job at this.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 60% on Pride
You scored higher than 83% on Envy
You scored higher than 50% on Ambition
You scored higher than 80% on Deceitfulness

Link: The Which Biblical Villain Are You Test written by MetalliScats on Ok Cupid

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He smiles. It is, for once, a perfectly ordinary smile, perhaps with a rueful tinge. "I've been known to become one on occasion. Cast out of Heaven's Grace to rule in Hell. I was named for the creature who became Satan, before the fabled Fall. One of my names, at any rate. "

"And what would that name be, sugar?" A tiny frown. "And how come you folks seem to think ruling Hell is a bad thing?"

He laughs. "Did I say it was, in so many words?"

She smiles, but his evasiveness makes her eyes narrow and her gaze sharpen suspiciously.

"No, you didn't, sugar. But the test seems to say so. I'm curious about the cultural myths and beliefs."

"Cultural myths and beliefs. Yes, it would say to rule in Hell is a bad thing. For myself, that is the part I find myself playing most often." He shrugs a little. "I am content as I am at the moment."

Or maybe that was content as I am, at the moment.

She frowns slightly. "Your Hell must be different than ours then. I mean, it's not like the living are all that eager to go there, but better demon-dead than gone for most."

"Contentment's a good thing, sugar." There might be the hint of a purr in her voice and the room might be a bit warmer, but if so it's subtle, just the slightest seduction tendrils snaking through the room. "You still haven't told me your name."

"There are some who say that Hell is simply the absence of God, the absence of unconditional love. Others create levels of torments depending upon the severity of the damnation." He shrugs.

The smile turns to more of a smirk, and now the usual flirtatious charm starts to show through, the spark in his eyes that might be from enjoyment of her company or something more, the shift in his stance that's as much presentation as invitation. Something sensual about his lips that wasn't there before, as though they were made for kissing in any of a dozen places.

"I haven't." Slightly broader smile. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced."

A tilt of her head. "God. Damnation. These words mean nothing..."

That look, that stance she recognizes well. A more sensual smile dances on her lips. He knows how to play the game. And Mother Night, but he sends off waves that say he's good at it.

A definite purr, familiar ground. "Well, sugar, there's a problem in that there doesn't seem to be anyone here to perform the introductions. We might just have to manage them all by ourselves."

He shrugs. "It would take some time to explain, I think."

"We might." He slides his hands to his hips, a look that would be effeminate on almost anyone else and on him just seems suggestive, almost enough to forbid him standing that way in polite company. "What do introductions usually consist of where you come from?"

"You have a bunch of commitments to get to?" But as intrigued as she is by what "God" might be, she's more amused and intrigued by his stance and his eyes.

"Generally they consist of a gentleman telling a lady his name, and then she tells him hers if she wants him to know," she says dryly.

"None that would supersede." The tiny bow seems to imply that she is paramount in his attentions at the moment.

He smiles, all charm and dark-eyed promises. "But that would give the lady the advantage, would it not?"

God can wait.

"You're damn right about that, sugar." She smiles back, her eyes as promising, falling into old habits easily.

She calls in a glass of spiced wine, floating it to him, then another for her. "There something wrong with the lady having the superior position?"

He plucks it neatly out of the air as though born to telekinetic servants, not spilling a drop.

"On the contrary, I find it quite enjoyable with the proper lady." A sip of the wine and a glance over the rim of the glass, not quite a smirk there.

Used to magic then. She'd thought so. She files it away.

She sips her own wine, smiling back at him just slightly, letting the wine make her lips glisten and shifting on the divan enough to slide into a more comfortable pose, resting on one arm idly.

"And just what sort of lady would you consider proper, sugar?"

He looks her up and down. Since she's displayed herself, however subtly, it would only be polite. It would also, however, be courteous to be equally as subtle about his appreciation, so the only sign is a slight widening of the smile and lift of the eyebrow.

"I've found that that's a judgment usually to be made upon meeting the lady in question, rather than a set of criteria blindly applied." Truth, really. Even if it means little by itself.

"Wise man." And damn he was as evasive as Sadi. But potentially not nearly as adverse to the pleasures of the bedroom.

Subtle. Pretty. Dangerous, though, and she's not likely to forget it. There's lazy confidence in her eyes though. Her stiletto's near to hand.

"Wise, apparently nameless man." She smiles again, slowly. "Anonymity can have its uses, sugar, but is there really a need for it here?"

"You tell me," he says, and smiles. This smile holds more than a hint of cruelty, less than a threat of danger. The kind of cruelty that can be pleasurable under the right circumstances.

A shiver runs down her spine, wariness almost making her call the stiletto just for the comforting feel of it against her skin.

"There's no need." Half-soothing. Half-sultry. "Unless you want me calling you another man's name as kicks. I can always make something up."

He laughs. As dangerous as he was before, his laughter is calm and easy, almost even joyful.

"You could. The problem, for my own part, with introductions is that I have so many names. My sons call me one thing, my lovers call me by other names, my brothers and sisters..." Slight shrug.

"And which are you?"

"Which am I?" She looks surprised by the question. "Sugar, I just met you. I'm not anything yet. Except most definitely not one of your sons."

He chuckles. "Wait till you meet my sons. I would certainly not put it past them to craft an identity and illusion such as yourself."

"Well, you can doubt it, as you please, but I'm fairly certain of myself and I'll assure you...I'm not a male." She looks half-amused, half disgusted at the thought.

Which brings up an interesting point, but not one he'll speak to at the moment.

"So." He smiles. "Which of my names to give you."

She smiles back slowly, sipping her wine, settling more into the divan.

"Up to you, sugar. At this point I'm tempted to start calling you Caiaphas. Or Bob."

Another laugh, and he settles down to crouch just above the ground, fingertips brushing the floor, elbows resting on his knees.

He's also, for no readily apparent reason, mostly nude now. Dressed only in soft black pants, long and simple.

"Call me Samael, then."