Identity: Null

@casketdweller​ said:  “It’s not poisoned, trust me.” / Azazael

"Trust you?"

The demon smirked as he repeated the other's words, swirling the liquid in his glass a little bit. "I didn't know that we were that far into our relationship already, my dear. Where I'm from trust doesn't come easily. You have to make quite the impression to earn it."

“I haven’t thought of it like that.” Whilst Bruce had heard of the superstitions, personally he filed it as shill. There wasn’t much logic, despite the warnings screaming back to a time where technology and science weren’t as prominent. Not that the science of today wasn’t confusing. There were always new things to be discovered but, in Gotham perhaps the old sayings had a point.

“Usually it just signifies the passage of time.” He stood tall, the moonlight shining on him with wisps of fog scattered here and there. It did nothing to dispel the aura of authority that radiated from him. Nor did it smooth out the rough angles of his form.

“I don’t think I’ll be dying tonight.” he added, peering up at the night sky. “Are you new to Gotham?”

“Well, it is an old legend. There isn’t very much from that age that is still considered. At least not in the same way it once was. “

Where the stranger was angular and rough, Azazel seemed almost as wispy and intangible as the fog. His large cloak hid his shape from view, and his white hair fell about his face in soft, messy locks, blowing in the gentle night breeze.

“It’s funny. When you hear something like that your brain immediately puts yourself in the middle of it. The legend doesn’t say anything about you dying. But it’s natural to immediately think that. Is that selfishness? Or self preservation? Perhaps both are just human nature.” 

It’s now that he finally turns his eyes to the other, smiling almost whimsically. 

rain stained through her exorcist uniform, her hair sticking to the sides of her neck and to her cheeks as she made her way towards the only building she could see. murasaki had been on a solo mission, and she didn’t anticipate it to rain, especially not this hard.

it was clear as day that no one had been to this home to tend to it in a long time, as the old door creaked as she opened it, her soft voice carried through the dark and empty halls, though it faded into the sound of the rain pattering against the roof.

grey eyes glanced around, the woman apologizing for intruding, eyes catching a glimpse of color, the witch’s attention drawn towards the doll alone. her brows would furrow, and she would curiously examine them from afar for a moment before gently stepping towards them.

“ e… excuse me.. ? ” she tried, the hairs on her neck standing as she sensed… something from the life-like doll.

Slowly the doll’s eyes seemed to light up, as if a soft glow started to build behind them. Small flecks of light and sparkle swirled in their irises, gradually solidifying into a brighter blue until finally it stopped. And the doll blinked. And blinked again. 

There’s a quiet noise that is almost a sigh. Not quite though. No, it’s more like the sound of stale air escaping from a long unopened container. The doll’s back straightened up and they finally turned from the window, their feet touching down gingerly onto the dust covered floor as they exited the window’s ledge. 

There’s none of the stiffness you would expect as the doll moves. It’s fluid and easy, almost entirely too human. They come to stand before the stranger and offer her a soft smile, and a curtsy.