PRINCE OF HELL.

Ah, there we go! It wasn’t that hard, was it? Oz even feels a little proud of himself, to finally put some common sense in Damien’s head. Who knows, maybe it was just the beginning of a slow redemption arc that implied less crimes and unnecessary violence–

       —or not.            That was… wishful thinking, really.

“…yeah, uhm. I think I’ll pass.”

Not so bold, this time.

how is it that damien lavey, with 20+ boldness that is honestly a little too high to consider for an average comical dating sim, always fail his stat checks with oz ?  well, it’s pretty simple, really.  so simple, you might not even believe it :

damien’s trying to drag a not-so-bold person into doing bold things.

and so, relenting that he cannot just convince oz into joining him in crime or anything crime related to begin with, the demon starts to think of his new approach.  he’s got some charm, and he can get a bit creative with solutions.  and they can’t be crime related at all, lest he keep feeling less and less bold by the minute for failing to talk the embodiment of fear into it.  so, what’s he got ?

          “  i mean, fine, i guess,  ”  comes the initial answer.  but after a moment, the prince finally comes to a supposed solution to his oz-related problem !  and it’s so easy !  “  so let’s go something you wanna do.  cool, yeah ?  ”

“Yeah though, that’s what concerns me. There has to be something going on with them. The more I think about it, the more it just confuses the hell out of me. Either those two are strong or your dad’s been leveraging some outside help.”

Again, the burning question comes through. Sure, out of every connection that she could point to, the LaVeys didn’t seem that much of an issue compared to others. Yet any issue still posed a threat, no matter how small it might be. Best to squash the small ones first. Create a stepping stone for things to come. Damien doesn’t seem too interested in whatever the fuck is going on in the 8th, though that might change. Either he’d stop acting so boneheaded or he’d get his lover or somebody else to do it for him. That’s what Freya thought anyways. It wasn’t an eternity deal like her father’s rule was. Yeah, it did kinda hurt a bit to hear him brag about his two wonderful dads. Not everybody has a happy family. But it wasn’t exactly deserving of an honest ass beating. After all, the two haven’t known each other and Damien still seems to not see Freya as “that bitch who stole my phone”. But if he did try to start shit with her about it, then that boy wouldn’t really see the light of day.

“I don’t really expect your dads to stoop that low to seek out help from Lucifer… Unless, I dunno, they just only happen to really love you and nothing else. I’d just try to stay away from any old looking blond guys if I were you or your dads.”

the demon watches to gauge her reaction the best he could ;  though he’s no master at reading one’s body language, or judging one’s tone of voice, there seems to be some serious suspicion from the other directed to both of his dads.  this wouldn’t be the first time she’s brought it up with him, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s just tried to brush it off.  he’s not exactly interested in getting involved with demonic politics.

however, that does make his interactions with freya a little more difficult.

damien’s been acting like it doesn’t bother him, but her burning question has slowly become his own at the twilight hours of the morning, or in the peaceful moments at dinner, or over a movie on family movie night ;  are they getting help from this guy ?  are they planning to ?  if freya’s suspicions were correct, how the hell is he going to handle that information going further down the track ?

          “  old looking blond guys.  ”  he could at least take that on board ;  after all, maybe then he can identify a few suspects on the rare chance he pays attention to his dads’ dealings with political issues.  “  right.  okay.  sure, whatever.  ”

the good mood he’s gotten from discussing his dads and how they handle the eighth circle becomes more bittersweet than anything, and the bitterness eats at him fast ;  his dads have never given him reason to worry, or to hate, or to concern himself in issues that weren’t directly his own.  but if they’re working with this dude that freya’s so concerned about ...

well, concern has to come from somewhere, right ?

damien waits ever so patiently for her input, the demon’s yellow eyes shifting nervously between her and the paper he’s offered to her, clearly worried about assumptions.  a part of him tells him this was a terrible idea and now someone’s gonna find out and try to bully the shit out of him.  not that it would work, because he’d kick their ass, but the thought is surprisingly rational for someone who was 21.  the other part is just glad he might’ve found someone to talk about one of his side hobbies.

well, by side hobby, he supposes that he just comes up with the design and hopes to have someone make it for him, seeing as he focuses all his time and effort into styling hair and practicing his makeup skills.  but hey, there’s a first time for everything !

          “  y’think so ?  ”  damien glances over it and hums.  if he’s going to be using this dress for drag, maybe he’ll need something that’s light and breezy, nice and easy to wear for a good period of time without bothering his skin, something that doesn’t itch ...  (yup.  fuck lace.)  the demon finally hums.  “  could try some proper silk for flow.  or maybe egyptian cotton.  or, maybe, something that’ll let the fabric sit comfortably right ...  there.  ”

he points to the side of the dress design, where it has a split down the side with a bow sitting on the hip.  there’s a small pause.

      Up, up the stray embers flew into the night sky, carried on the rising heat and air and buoyed by the flames below. In the pools of Miranda’s eyes, orange light caught and tinted with electric blue as her tapetum lucidum refracted the firelight back out in the telltale call of a predator of the darkness, they shone like sprites. Little, dying suns that flicked their burning tongues against the stars and cool air before they were bolstered into ash and vanished into that same darkness.

       The sound coming out of Miranda’s mouth might have been best described as some twisted union between quick, repeated chirrups of some primitive bird not yet heard by those so far inland, the flittering of an orchestra’s winds section, and… something else. A strange musical quality that couldn’t quite be found elsewhere, that took the sound from out of the air and worked it into a dance, making it twirl and prance and loop inwards on itself into a show of beauty that sung of the deeps and the old places that the sun had not touched in a billion years. A laugh. A breathless, wild laugh, that flashed her teeth in the wake of destruction and made her twitch with the force of it.

      To someone who lived for the vast majority of their life in the place where fire would suffocate and die - there was just as much a beauty in the glow of heat and destruction as there was in her own song to those who never knew the sea like she did.

      “It was beautiful!!! I did not think the back room would erupt like that - what did you put back there?? Did you see how they flailed about as they caught fire? They glowed!! From within!!” Still chittering, Miranda was even glowing herself. Albeit, it was a cool blue glow, pulsing over her cheeks and fins in predetermined patterns, shades of her own natural bioluminescence, excited flickers that were visible in the darkness, but a glow nonetheless.      

yellow eyes turn to the princess for a brief second ;  a quick flick in her general direction, catching a glimpse of the glowing blue that dances across her skin upon her enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the fanned flames that glowed a bright orange and yellow, consuming the fuel it feeds on hungrily.  another curious mystery to miranda’s being.  perhaps that was simply the nature of many monsters that attended the school, and beyond, enigmas to others but perfectly sensible to themselves.

hailing from the eighth circle, it’s almost hilarious how much damien takes after the more violent demons from earlier circles ;  an insatiable appetite for destruction and flames, a powerful outlet with numerous casualties that he’s often keen boasting about.  one would think that by coming from a circle centred around fraud, that damien would become a skilled liar instead ...  or perhaps someone who could detect lies just as easily.  in the end, damien is a product of something more, something different, a mixture of the environment he’s always known and the things he has seen in his short lifetime.

while damien likes to fight, perhaps his further interest comes with hearing the thrills from his friends when he proves his strength, his talents ;  the laugh from miranda is enough to fuel his own, though a little more on the maniacal side, eyes burning with the same intensity as the flames he’s created.

          “ Weell boooohooooo, “ You huffed. “ That’s how I say it works. “ You were stubborn - you’d say it was one of your flaws as a person. ( monster? you still weren’t sure. ) Though, you rolled your eyes.

          “ I’ll buy you a couple of sick lighters next time I visit one of my colleagues, alright? They’ve got some cool shit - have you ever seen one powered by fairy dust? It changes the flame’s colors. Or, hell, I could just buy you some fairy dust and you can, I’unno, use it for artsy stuff. Now, turn that frown upside down. “ How mean and teasing. You shouldn’t talk to him like that, but who’s stopping you? It’s not like you’re afraid of Damien - you do, however, respect him. You let out a soft hum.

          “ Magic. I bought it from an antique shop - it was one I was told was really old - and powerful, and I WAS studying it. Bah, I got about halfway through it, I’m sure I can replicate it. No use crying over it. “

oh !  promise of sick lighters  --  or just some fairy dust, which meant some pretty creative arson down the track  --  is enough for the demon to (nearly) forgive the loss of his 10 bucks from semantics.  anything to commit arson is anything to commit arson.  the frown does stay for the moment, however, brows furrowed to complete the look.  seems like this demon was going to be stubborn and not give her the satisfaction of knowing he’s totally keen for some new lighters.

so the book was magic.  didn’t seem very magic to him, as he glances to its charred remains on the ground ;  then she mentions replicating it.  gaze shifts to her in slight awe, suddenly very interested in the process.

bagon.

she pocketed the money as she finished up what he didn’t, almost with an uncomfortable amount of ease as if she drank the ichor like water… on gods what level were these gluttony demons were on ?!

“ well, if y’wanna know … it’s a lotta stuff from our native hellscapes; a healthy blend of the best of the best and it’s a classic staple where i came from. as i said, us gluttony demons know our drinks and food like nobody else.”

she felt a bit bad of the prince unable to down such a powerful drink … thankfully it wasn’t something that was meant for the higher-ups or else they both would be blackout drunk and out there with no clue what to do. it was better he had the “usual”.

“ so uh yeah… sorry y’learned that way about my culture but my kind sorta pride ourselves in the best meals; it comes with indulgin’ in the sins of the flesh. i mean to me it’s normal super tasty food but to like mortals it’s … addictin’.” honestly, recalling the times she did try to weasel in demon food for her friends they always asked about it again for weeks … was that good or not ?

one might think that damien would be more annoyed that he couldn’t finish the drink, and thus had to separate from a good fifty bucks that he was going to use later down the track for something else ...  but with the way the demon grins and tries another sip of the drink, maybe it’s not all that bad.  one might say he even likes the stuff.

well, despite not being able to drink it all at once.  that’s no problem in his mind.

          “  the fuck are you apologising for ?  this is the most metal fucking drink i’ve had in fucking ages.  won’t have it often, because i’m pretty sure it assaulted every sense i had in the span of three seconds, but i’m gonna have this again.  ”  perhaps it’s a little lucky demons like him can’t really get addicted to this stuff.  that, and damien’s stomach is practically a blast furnace.  as a demon does.  “  so mortals get hooked on this shit, huh ?  ”

count damien interested and impressed.  he’s eyeing what he has left in the bottle, wondering if he should show his friends how great this tasted.  maybe not those who will get addicted.  polly, though ?  definitely.

“ y’know each time i letcha win a monopoly, i’m sapiosexually bottomin’ for ya ‘cause i am the designated top. ”

@ofarson​​

          “  you WHA T ????????????  ”

of course.  it’s back to hell’s bullshit politics.  if her sole reason for wanting to piss him off is all because his family has some sort of dealings with the ninth circle, damien can’t help but wonder if it’s just because she hates who that person behind the ninth circle is ;  and if it is, why should it reflect back on him ?  politics are fucking stupid.

but realistically, damien doesn’t know if his dads are in dealings with lucifer.  he’s never thought to pay attention or to ask.  his family is quite separate from what they do on a day-to-day basis, and both lucien and stan have never really brought up political issues when damien is around.  probably to avoid him getting caught up in it all over again.  which is a festering wound the demon doesn’t really want to think about ...

          “  i don’t know.  ”

it’s the only answer he can give her.  he’s never bothered with the ninth circle, except perhaps visiting once or twice, and he never listens in on what his dads have to do to keep themselves in power.  damien knows little for the prince of the eighth circle.

two things are happening here that damien’s excited about ;  seeing the harpy so animated at the chance of a jam session, and the potential breaking in that they’re both going to be doing to get their hands on electronic instruments.

oh yeah.  there’s no going back now.  damien’s already got the glint in his eye, grin on his face, and tail swaying a little faster than normal when he’s keen for something.  the demon is almost prepared to drag izzy along just to get to the band room sooner, but pauses halfway through the motion, hand hovering a little awkwardly.  he pauses.

yep.  he has no idea how to recover from that.

that’s fine, he thinks, as he moves through the motion to get past izzy, only brushing past her with his gaze turning back to her playfully.  electronic guitar jam session will sound INFINITELY better than just acoustics ...  and he knows his rock music pretty well, too.

          “  well ?  whaddya waiting for ?  we’re breaking into the motherfucking band room to get our hands on those cool fucking electronic guitars !  ”  that’s one big ass smirk across his face right there.  “  i even know which one plays better because the strings are newer.  i might let you try it out if you can beat me there.  ”

yep.  he’s challenged a harpy to a race to the band room.

Here he was, his mouf open to take a heckin monch out of his sammich.  A monch interrupted by the sudden approach of Damien! 

Oh!  He saw Damien choose to sit at his table (which nobody else really touched.) and his first thought was that he could become a possible friend!  “Oh, hel-”  His greeting was cut off by the other’s threat.  Ah, this makes more sense now. 

“Language.” He picked up his nail case from the floor and set it next to him in his seat before speaking. 

“Well, I would have appreciated a ‘please’ or the absence of a threat, but.”  “There’s no real way to ‘pass’ it other than learning it?”  “It’s not a secret or anything, you just need to practice.”  “Maybe try working with softer woods?” 

that’s ...  not the answer damien was hoping for at all.  the demon’s distinct snarl across his face is enough evidence to support this, glare so strong that it could probably burn a hole through poor ayuma, the demon now leaning forward to close the distance between them.

and he sure as hell doesn’t appreciate being treated like a kid about his language.

          “  first of all :  fuck you, i can swear all i fucking want, and i fucking love to throw in some creative insults to boot.  now second ...  ”

he takes this next bit a little calmer.  well, easier would be a better word.

though he doesn’t like that he has to practice, he’s no stranger to honing his skills for the sake of something he finds enjoying.  while he has yet to enjoy woodwork, there’s potential ;  and if he bullies the absolute fuck out of ayuma before he can figure out how to do it right, he might never pass this class without some plagiarism and cheating.

i mean, he might do that anyway, but he seems invested enough to try in the first place.

Ah shit! Damien plus boredom never equalled anything good! Typically it consisted of violence directed at whatever was closest. Since Sawyer was closest they had better think fast for a solution to his boredom. “Umm… Have you tried… Setting the lake on fire?”

Was that a good suggestion? Probably not. But it was the first thing that came to Sawyer’s mind. Well Sawyer wasn’t a big fan of the lake anyhow. Why would they care if it caught fire? “I heard about a lake catching fire in like Ohio once. Maybe you can make a bigger lake fire.”

setting the lake on fire ?  it’s like a weird sense of deja vu whenever someone suggests it to him, like he knows he’s thought of it in the past before, staring at that big body of water like it was trying to taunt him ...  but hey, who gives the fuck about deja vu ?  maybe he WANTS to set the lake on fire.  and with sawyer, his odds of succeeding have increased twofold.

Jin rolled his eyes. His instincts seemed to be right; Damien was a pain in the ass. He folded his arms over his chest. He refused to be categorized by someone who couldn’t understand what it was like to be him. He wasn’t about to be roped into doing the prince’s criminal bidding simply because they were both some kind of demon.

“Wow, how original. What subreddit did you steal that snarky little line from?”

          “  the subreddit of fuck you, that’s where !  ”

maybe damien’s fed up of people trying to make him act like royalty when he doesn’t give a fuck about it in the first place.  it wasn’t like this demon had a single bloody clue about the shit he’s had to put up with for his entire life.

no point trying to make the assholes understand, he reasons.  he can at least try to come up with some creative insults to throw at him.

What was this? Backpedaling? Bargaining? Oh that was a reason to smile. A smug, devious smirk, sharp teeth showing themselves off. The vulture was oblivious, preening his bright plumage while he shifted from Izzy’s arm to her slightly outstretched talons. Just out of Damien’s reach.

Now you were just showing off and tormenting the poor demon.

A new instrument of her choice? He knew what she liked, but there was something about negotiating…

“Normally you need to be in a place of power to start bargaining with whatchu want, Takis.” Her tone oozed complacency, looking down from her perch at Damien.

Now, Izzy wasn’t cruel. Her tone shifted to avian speak, catching the bearded vulture’s attention with some quiet screes and chitters. The Vulture responded back, looking between both the harpy and the demon, pupils dilating every few seconds.

Well, enough waiting, or the bait was gonna wear off.

“Make it two, one of them custom made, and I’ll also throw in some bird lessons.” Ah yes, the counter offer. A classic maneuver. “He’s a smidge hungry and I know you got bones lying around somewhere.”

shit.  timed offer.  izzy was really pulling out the stops just for him, huh ?

well, i guess it’s not every day you get to bargain the fuck out of a prince of hell, and she’s seizing the opportunity to get not only one, but two instruments, one custom made.  and he gets bird lessons ?  and right, he needs to grab some bones.  of course he needs bones for the vulture, of which he’s pretty sure there’s something laying around somewhere that he can use, so that’s no issue ...

damien has to make that decision before things go south and he misses the window of opportunity to get his hands on that sweet fucking vulture that izzy has.

          “  okay, fucking deal.  now can i hold the bird ?  after i get bones ?  before ??  ”

damn.  he’s really going to invest his time in making her a custom made instrument.  he could be an asshole and paint a single drum and call that done, but a good part of him doesn’t want to do that ;  he wants to go all out.  because damien lavey doesn’t fucking half-ass shit for people he likes because that’s a dick move and doesn’t show he actually kinda cares.

oh.  likes.  and cares.  the demon almost cringes at the thought.  this is a dangerous loop he’s going to get himself into, with no chance of turning back when he jumps in ...  but that’s for a different thread, because i said so.

*•.¸♥ ∞ “ Damien, Damien! So quick to jump to conclusions! I always admired that about you. So crass and sudden! What a rush. ” Said with a flutter of sparkling eyes. He wasn’t very sorry at all actually but it worked in getting the demon’s attention. “ The first thing I lay eyes on out from my home portal is you. It must be fate! Now why am I the only one who see’s that? ”

“ .. Or maybe you do. I see you’re eyeing my physique a little yourself. ” Seemed like all eyes weren’t just on Damien. Was he catching his eye finally? “ Well I did apply an extra layer of sparkle, just to highlight my cheekbones! .. I hope it’s not too much? Oh who am I kidding, of course not! ”

ugh.  he’s about to tear into the other about how he’s not that interested since the whole incident with the loser gang, only to be briefly interrupted by the mention of highlighting on the cheekbones.  huh.  the demon takes the opportunity to get closer to the other’s face, analysing the use of makeup on his face.  well ...

━     He’s always there to make sure Damien was going to be alright. Of course hanging out with him was incredibly fun ending up in exciting unexplained tangents with something being lit on fire at the end; but a good part of the reason he came along was to ensure his friend could find his way back to his gate back home to hell. 

Today was a bit tamer; no gryphon pasta or Wolfpack to avoid. The only fire set was to the blunt Damien was smoking and Scott was easily caught in his own daze without the drug. The sky was really something tonight and there’s just something sentimental about chilling on the bleachers with just your best friend. Rosy haze clouding thoughts and leaving a smile on his face; tail wagging content behind him.

“ Aw. You’d have me over Boo Paul’s drag race? How strong is the stuff you’re smokin’? ” Kidding. He said it with a grin, snapping his attention from the nights’ stars when he heard him mention a secret. All ears then considering Damien had very rare breaks from his fiery hard persona even in his company. Seeing little bits of him was special, almost intimate even. Scott had closed the space between them to lean in close as if they were in a crowded room and had to huddle for privacy.

“ … ” Oh. This was really secret. Really really secret. Scott admired Damien for his tenacity, but he cherished him for his kindness. Their tight bond gave him a perspective about his best friend that one hardly knew. To hear it in words though .., this was something else. Part drug induced part something really bothering him.

“ .. Yeah, it kinda is. ” After a moment of letting things sink in Scott mumbles with a nod and a revelation. “ You start wearing your heart on your sleeve and people are going to take advantage of it or invite them to hurt you, you know? And they do. A lot. A lot a lot. Family n’ friends and even complete strangers. ”

“ But you know, it’s worth it in the end I think and you know I don’t do a lot of thinking. Eventually you meet the right people in the end who like or love you for you. I don’t think we’d be really cool bros like we are without opening up. Not sayin’ you gotta do it all the time. But like, when you’re comfortable. A lil’ at a time. You’re gonna get that sweet hug n’ fluff action; a whole lot of it..!  ”

        Scott had a little secret of his own: he’s not as dumb as people think. 

“ Somethin’ cool? … You are. ” And Scott just wraps an arm around his shoulder complete with a warm comforting squeeze and a toothy smile. Maybe he can give him a little bit of fluff he was looking for? 

           “ I love ya, bro. Thanks for being so cool. ” 

ah.

damien’s tight frown that he was wearing eases to a more neutral look, yellow eyes flicking up to watch scott speak.  it’s easy, relaxing, calming ;  scott understands where he comes from and the demon’s posture eases inch by inch into their comfortable setup with every word, eyes soon staring into the distance.  he keeps himself zoned in, though.  just to listen.

getting hurt ain’t easy.  and it sounds like scott knows that too.  it’s incredibly smart, the way scott puts it, how he should still take the risk bit by bit regardless of the consequences, but how can you handle that ?  damien almost goes to respond with one of his usual remarks, you been holding out on me like that the entire time huh, but he bites his tongue before he can.  before he ruins the moment and shuts himself out again.  he knows he does it every time he gets an answer not quite to his liking, something that makes him uncomfortable.

but this was just what scott was talking about ;  a lil at a time.

finally, his attempt to bounce off the topic comes with an answer, complete with the arm around him and the comforting squeeze to follow  --  how can damien resist ?  a toothy smile of his own comes to appear on his face as well, yellow eyes focusing on the werewolf with a touch of thankfulness behind it.  a touch of genuineness.  a slice of damien nobody sees.

          “  hey, thanks.  you’re fucking awesome too.  ”  the demon playfully taps scott’s shoulder with his fist, a little strong handed but much lighter than he often would  --  even if it scarcely ever bothered his best bro in the end.  “  and i love you.  you know that, yeah ?  ”

with a quick shuffle, the demon is now situated much more comfortably against scott ;  legs kicked up, tail wrapping around scott’s waist as both an anchoring point and as a small affection, his body heavily leaning into the other’s side, trusting scott not to move so he falls.  damien waits for a few seconds, hums, then looks back up to the werewolf with a small grin on his face.  seems like he has an idea.

Brian wasn’t disappointed at Damien for not having the best reputation among other circles, if anything, it was expect. Damien have always struck the zombie as the kind of guy who lives his life however he wants, whether other people like it or not, a trait that the male zombie admires quite alot. But it does come with it’s caveats, such as… you know… people hating you.

Oh… so… there’s hatred between the circles? And there’s a tournament that Damien will most definitely drag him into? Sure, why not? Brian knew what he was getting into when talking to the demon prince, and honestly, the zombie was getting somewhat used to this kind of thing, sadly enough. Might as well just follow the breeze wherever it goes, even if it’s in Hell. Plus, he’s the one who brought it up in the first place, the zombie isn’t going to back down now.

 Brian is taken by surprise to the other’s comment about this place could be romantic, but quickly recovers, giving the other a small smirk as a flush went across his cheeks. “Well, how can I say no, when you ask me out like that?”

“Let’s go to hell! I’ll bring the snacks.” Brian stated, his elbow leaning on the other’s shoulder as he put his pamphlet away, shamelessly grabbing the other’s bag of doritos, putting one in his mouth. “Just a question though…” He said between the chewing. “How do we go to hell? Do we sacrifice some lamb on a pentagram or…”

okay, that was kind of funny.  damien lets out a low chuckle with a punch to brian’s shoulder to follow, rolling his eyes.  maybe it’d be hilarious to drag brian down that path, but if he’s going to get into the ninth circle to fuck shit up and live the punk life everyone obviously aspires to have, then he probably shouldn’t drag it out too long.

          “  yes, because killing a lamb on a pentagram will magically teleport us to hell.  ”  he tries to make it sound as deadpan as possible, but the laughter bubbling up is barely contained, grin ever the more apparent on his face.  “  nah, that’s not the way to go.  i mean, i could probably walk on in with only a few issues, but the fastest ticket down there is to do something so treacherous that you deserve an eternity of freezing hell.  yep.  guess the humans were onto something in wherever the fuck the coldest place was again.  ”

siberia.  he’s referring to siberia.  nonetheless, the prince tries to steal back at least one of his doritos by trying to snatch it out of the zombie’s hand.