To most everyone who knew him, Belloc was seen as a relatively easygoing and unbothered individual.
He didn't raise his voice unless he was playing a game or at a concert, and for the most part nothing really seemed to upset him.
The only things that seemed to actually make him angry were those belonging to the norse pantheon.
It was understandable after all, as they were the ones responsible for his imprisonment within the Norse underworld.
He spent all of his time either in his little cove of corpses, at Hel's side, or gnawing on the roots of Yggdrasil; trying to break into the mortal world.
It was a torturous existence for him as a creature that was fated to end the world.
There wasn't a day that went by where he wasn't grateful to his parents for coming down to save him.
But now, what he was feeling was almost the exact opposite of gratitude.
It was pure, unmitigated, hatred.
