there's an art to life's distractions

Bar talk, although unreliable and often littered with seedy half-truths, was where Jules commonly dug out the most prosperous rumors. Some were well-grounded and others were completely ridiculous. Not that it mattered how much truth they held for the demon. It was entertaining listening to these creatures spill their worries and concerns to someone who couldn’t give more than a single fuck about it. Jules leaned into his hand and sipped his beer thoughtfully, lips curled upwards. What really was circling his mind was the new faction in town. The defiance. Caused quite the stir and Jules couldn’t be more intrigued in how this shit was going to go down. “What did you think about that message? Can you believe it? ‘ We see you, we know what you are, we are coming for you. ’ It seemed like the humans finally caught on. Somehow, this is going to end up as an all you can eat buffet for me. Let’s toast to fucking war and eating good. Who would have thought the universe would look kindly on my treacherous ass?”

Beckett had a feeling this wasn’t the first time that question had been asked that night. People had various reactions to that video, and the demon couldn’t understand how anyone was phased by such a campy video. “Is this market research?” Beck chuckled, eyes scanning the crowd as casually as possible. He didn’t know what flavor exactly he was looking for tonight, but he would know it when he laid eyes on it. “I do love a bit of dramatic flair, though the production value was sorely lacking. They didn’t ask for anything. They’re just looking for a reaction. See who gets scared. Good riddance.” It wasn’t like the city was better off for hanging onto the cowardly members of the supernatural. Demons weren’t pack creatures by nature, but he had forgotten how nice it was to talk to someone with the same twisted black heart and inclinations. “To war,” he agreed, turning the man’s words into an impromptu toast so he could lift his own drink. No matter which side won, all he had to do was stay alive and there would be plenty of bloodshed and misery with no effort required. “They can’t be too hard to pick off, once they’re found. Three or four well placed murders and the whole house of cards collapses,” he mused, an idea for a personal pet project already cropping up. “You capture one, and you can even make a response video of your own.”

“Look dude, you’re harshing my buzz so either tell me what you want or let me get back to my work.” Atticus had been on a snack run and was currently clutching a few boxes of hostess cakes and monster energies. There were dark rings under the mans eyes and he reeked of weed, so much so it would be hard to avoid smelling.  

It was as if a cockroach off a dirty bodega floor had suddenly gained sentience and decided to speak to him. Wearing an expression of pure disgust, the combination of the smell and food garbage he was openly holding made it impossible to school his features into a more neutral expression. When he had left his house on a cigarette run, he had hoped to run into a human he could lure elsewhere, but this was not what he had pictured. “Yes, I’ve obviously held you up on your way to some very important business. Careful.” A knuckle came up to rap against the box that held the energy drinks. “Only so much sleep deprivation the human body can take.”

“You know..” Jarael actually had to laugh softly with the way the other male looked at him. “You could just kiss me or at least smile when seeing me.” Well, he just appeared in the males apartment, so he really wasn’t this surprised that the other guy wasn’t too euphoric. “Invitations are for idiots.” The demon shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the suit he was wearing. “And thank you for noticing my new suit. Was expensive.” His tone was nothing but teasing, sarcastic and probably way too cheery. “C’mon.. aren’t you at least a little happy to see me?”

“Kisses are earned. So are smiles. What have you done to earn anything from me?” He latched the deadbolt firmly behind him, mildly impressed that he had found a way in at all. Uninvited company would normally be routinely disposed of, but he was in an exceptionally good mood and Jarael had the added benefit of being a demon. Perhaps he had something interesting to share, or a job for Beckett to do. He set down his bag and neatly hung his coat, undoing the layers of the day and not even giving the other man a second glance. Best not to immediately reward attention seeking behavior. “I like you in a bolder color choice. Maybe a maroon? Some people like basic, though. They call it classic to make themselves feel better.”