passimclamoribus

open rp

✦
OPEN RP
✖

I said that I would make this much cleaner and neater and now here we are.

Let me say thank you for stopping by and giving this journal a look over. This is a space to unwind and have a little bit of fun. If you want to thread something out, well then let's do just that. You can throw something my way and I'll just roll with what you give me. Or you can drop me a message if you want to plot something out.

Let's RP!

❤

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's a good thing that Alastor had taken the time to freshen up, hmm? At least he doesn't smell of blood and death. Now the wound itself? Well it is no better and no worse than before. It simply isn't healing.

Not surprising that Lucifer brushes him off. Alastor won't allow that one to happen. So he melts into the shadows. Reappears right in front of him, cane to Lucifer's chest. ]

Oh no no, Sire. I insist. You see, I have been reflecting the last couple of days and I've decided that since I cannot come to the answer myself then I simply should ask the source.

[ He stops. Looks Alastor in the eyes, then down to the cane. Wrinkles his nose and looks back up with a grimace. Ugh, what even is this? But fine, apparently he's not escaping whatever it is. With a roll of his eyes, he flicks his fingers, opening the door — and then uses his own cane to nudge back Alastor through it. ]

Oh, fine, let's get this over with.

[ Rude. So totally and completely rude. If the little king could have just accepted the conversation from the start. Or, you know, not engage with Alastor at all. But they are far passed that. He backs up into the room, turning on a heel and entering properly.

He is going to take a moment to look about the room. Back facing the literal King of Hell as he conjures up the bandages given to him by Lucifer. ]

What is it that you wanted in return? What do you want in exchange for your silence on the matter of a couple of nights ago?

[ Alastor turns his head to look at Lucifer from over his shoulder. ]

I can't understand what it is that is taking you so long to expose me.

[ While Alastor's busy looking around his room, Lucifer's occupying himself with tugging off his boots and removing his coat and hat, hanging everything up, and unbuttoning his sleeves. Whatever conversation this is, it's happening in his own space and he does intend to get to bed at some point tonight. No reason not to get comfortable for whatever insanity Alastor's insisting on.

And it is insanity. At the questions — it takes a little for him to understand what Alastor even means, only gets it when he turns to face him and sees the bandages in his hands — Lucifer stares, eye twitching just a little. Really? Is this really what couldn't wait for tomorrow and a cup of coffee?

Finally, Lucifer gives up on the brief attempt to understand this asshole and rolls his eyes, returning to the task of unbuttoning his waistcoat. ]

What would I possibly want for it?

[ And why would he want to expose Alastor. "Expose," air quotes very much intended, because the only people he might tell about that festering wound are people who'd try to help this fucking guy. But no, why would he say anything? Use it in their bickering? No, that's just kicking the guy when he's down. ]

[ No, no this really cannot wait. Alastor will be the one losing sleep if he doesn't finally have an answer. He needs to have the matter settled. Finalized. This way he can return to his normal routine and behavior patterns. Alastor very much is a creature of habit as he is of whimsy. But with this hanging over him, he is on edge. That won't do. Won't do at all.

It's his own brow that twitches at the response Lucifer provides. Alastor fully turns around, practically stalking like a caged tiger towards Lucifer. ]

No one in Hell, save dear Charlie, ever helps someone without expecting something in return, Sire. You do realize just how many would make a deal for their souls just to be in the position you found yourself in that night? How many would have taken advantage of it?

[ It's only when he's a couple of feet away that he realizes that Lucifer is still undressing. Alastor immediately turns around, ears standing straight and static popping in a huff. ]

You have a particularly nasty habit of catching me with my guard down, as loathe as I am to admit that to you. Not many can claim to have seen the Radio Demon in such a state. Not even my dear Rosie.

[ He'd been planning on continuing on undressing — not all the way, but at least down to just his pants and shirtsleeves. Alastor's displeasure at the completely modest show of skin has him pausing, though. Almost laughing, if he's honest. Figures this guy would act like he's a Victorian spinster showing the indecency of his ankles. Maybe he should get the fainting couch ready.

In fact— He waves his hand and a chaise pops into being right behind him. Handy. ]

Well, don't read too much into it. Not like I'm trying to walk in on you or anything. [ He's stopping at the waistcoat for Alastor's delicate sensibilities. Ha. But that doesn't stop him from stretching out on the chaise like the Victorian maiden he apparently is, draping himself along the cushions. ] And yeah, I realize. Buncha violent psychopaths only looking out for themselves, I'm sure they'd love to get you owing them. But hey, lucky you, it's me and not one of them. What could I possibly want from you, anyway?

[ It's mostly rhetorical. He hadn't offered up the bandages because he didn't want anything. What he'd wanted was to lessen Alastor's pain. To help him, just a little, even if he didn't like the guy. ]

[ Good. Someone in this hotel has to be modest. There are far too many in this place that aren't. Heathens. Every single one of them. ]

Believe me, I am aware you are not doing it on purpose or else this would be a different conversation entirely. The fact that you are, indeed, meeting me at seemingly random locations when I am feeding is even more alarming.

[ He turns around when he hears the fallen angel flop over. And makes a face when he sees Lucifer essentially all sprawled out over the chaise. Dramatic little...

Alastor isn't sure that it's better that it is Lucifer that is catching him here or not. All that power and not the will to use it. Unless pressed too far of course. ]

What could you want... Not too terribly creative in that department, are we? I could think of countless things, you realize, but you mean to say that the Devil cannot? That I am to trust that all of it was simply because you wished to? No strings attached.

[ He folds his arms behind his back. ]

Forgive me for sounding incredulous.

[ That earns him a flat look. Does Alastor not realize that Charlie had to get it all from somewhere, and it definitely wasn't Lilith? Probably for the best he doesn't realize, the last thing Lucifer needs is Alastor thinking he's soft. That he's willing to go around, handing out help just because he feels like it, just like his daughter, because it's maybe not the right thing to do here in Hell, but it's what he wants to do. Yeah, no thanks. He knows Alastor doesn't think much of him, but better he thinks Lucifer's unimaginative than naive and easily manipulated.

So he just stretches out a little more comfortably and rolls his eyes. He's not here to convince Alastor that he's a good person or anything. No, that's all Charlie, he's just whatever's left of the dregs. ]

You can trust whatever you want. Or not trust it, no difference to me. And whatever you're thinking, I don't want it.

[ At least, not in the ways Alastor might offer it. Sure, he wants things. He wants Hell to be better. He wants his daughter safe and happy. He wants not to be lonely and depressed and miserable ninety percent of the time. Nothing Alastor would want to help with, or even would help with willingly without ulterior motive. He knows not to expect anything more from a sinner. ]

[ Meanwhile Alastor is standing there, fingers tapping on his cane. Thinking. Reflecting. And then something occurs to him - how Lucifer had departed that day. The look on the other's face... It had been what? Disappointment?

For what reason, Alastor wonders.

He steps forward. Closer and closer to the fallen angel. Taking a gamble? Perhaps. But you know what they say! No risk, no reward. ]

Somehow, sire, I don't believe that is quite true. I think my thoughts regarding you might actually matter, to a degree.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

open rp

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject