Flowing in the fog

“This table is occupied.Please situate yourself somewhere else” 

The only bad thing about being a vampire and drinking was that it took longer and more drinks for the effects of the alcohol to sink in. The day she had that day had been interesting, to say the least. She was more than ready for a drink to get the edge off from her day. Oliver was safely sleeping at home with a babysitter who was compelled to protect Oliver no matter what. As she down the first 3 shots she turned to the person next to her. “I’m sorry,” she spoke. “Are you judging?”

Harper didn’t even want to drink. He just wanted to get away from that chatty girl. Harper watched the other take three shots and sighed. “I’m just making sure you are careful.” He stated. “But otherwise you could whatever you please.I hav my own dilemnas tonight.” 

           “i mean— i DO know the groom.” the bride? not so much? also the groom? barely. “good drinks though, the whole place– all very nice.”

“I’m a plus one or how the youth say ‘a fake date.’ “ He honestly ran into the nurse and barely remembered why he was helping. Something to do with a jealousy and proof. Harper squinted at the other. “Weren’t you that guy fast asleep in my complex building?”He looked at the drink. “You should drink in moderation.” 

“They are adorable!” Jenna concurred, eyes refusing to escape those of the puppies. She wanted nothing more then to reach in and grab one, cuddle it. They seemed so damn soft and excited too. “Have you ever had a puppy?” She asked, deeming small talk appropriate.

Harper smiled to himself. “Sadly no. I haven’t lived in a space that would make a puppy feel happy.” Fields and now small apartments feel like cages. “But if I could I’d take the ones with the spots.” He looked at the other. “Did you ever have a puppy.” 

        “ you are, huh? ” he’s probably not too subtle about the skepticism in his gaze as he briefly lets it skim over the other. “ tough accounting life? ” yeah, evan. because, OBVIOUSLY, all people that wear suits must be accountants of some sort. oh, well. what does he know? last time he wore one, it was for his middle school prom. “ sure. why not? maybe someone will see you and decide you’re trustworthy enough to give a free round to. ”

“I can desire alcholol like anyone else.” Harper stated matter of fact. “I am also a coroner.” Harper has worn suits on and off prior. He has already missing not wearing pants. “Do I not look trustworthy?” Haper question raising an eyebrow. Maybe this human disguise was dated. He was silent for a moment. “I’ll give you a freeround as well.” 

“It’s a life-saver.” She laughed and offered him an understanding look. “Anything I can help with?”

“Fascinating.” He said a bit seriously. The kitsune brushed his hair back. “It’s a situation where I am feeling something in my heart rather than my brain.” Harper admitted. “I never felt this intene desire for something and it confuses me.” That was the most honest answer. “I don’t know how to get rid of it.” 

“It’s called stress-cleaning. I’m stressed…so I’m cleaning.”

“Does stressing cleaning help?” The kitsune asked. “I am admittely stressed as well.” 

           he’s so close he can taste it.  the desperation, the desire, the need.  it’s intoxicating and has never become a feeling he tires of experiencing.  he’s just about to lay the final bricks,  seal the deal and determine the course of the next few decades, but he’s frozen in place when the assault happens.  his knees buckle, hands coming up to cover his ears.  his head is pounding;  it’s like someone has drilled into his skull, digging deeper and deeper until even the whites of his eyes are stinging.  “ i think you need some time to think. “  he manages to get out,  feeling the resistance of the vessel.  it’s angry,  probably the angriest it’s been thus far.  (  it didn’t like its lips pressed against someone other than the boyfriend. he feels the disgust.  )     “ here. “   he hands his card to harper,  his number scrawled in blank ink on the backside.  “ when you’re ready to make a deal … give me a call. “    he walks away then, getting out of view so he can teleport himself to safety.   he collapses in a chair when he stumbles into the house, preparing himself for a fight that he fully INTENDS on winning.  

“V!” Harper yelled out of fear. Was the other hurt? Was there bad energy in the premises? The kitsune just watch the other struggle. “Okay.” He said, still shocked at what happened. Harper looked down at the phone number. “I will call you.” He said despite more worried about the other. Harper picked up his flute on the ground. Did that just really happen? His heart was racing but he began to play a song. Harper walked into the forest nearby a lake. He needed some time to mediate on his thoughts. 

“They’re pretty cute aren’t they.” Harper said before glancing at the stranger.

@oflostchances

“Good evening.” the kitsune stated out of nowhere. 

@hybrldqueen

        well, yeah. he kinda wanted to change some things about his appearance ( maybe this way his family won’t hate him & people will stop attacking him for no reason ). he wanted to just try with eye color or something. but, INSTEAD, he ended up with a whole ass makeover. after hours and hours of trying, he just gives up. he has no clue how to change back. or maybe he just lost his mind. “ where’s the nearest bar? ” he asks the closest person. in defeat.

The only reason the kitsune tries to change his appearance is because he’s tired of the hippie, cosplayer, and maybe he’s hiding from a certain individual. He just wanted a break from it all.The shifting magic was easy for the kitsune-he had plenty of time to practice. The key really was patience. Shorter hair and slight signs in aging made him look different.The now short haired boy in a suit looked at the other. 

“I’m heading to a bar right now.” He replied. Harper tilted his head. “You want to come with me?” 

        “ i know you are. “  he hums low under his breath, a melancholy sound.  he aims to seem sympathetic, to have empathy for this pathetic creature’s plight.  “…your philosophers never lived in this modern world.  who’s to say they’d share those same sentiments today  ?   things change,  you know that.  you saw it then,  you see it now. “  his gaze softens;  calculated, measured.  he knows how to exploit weaknesses for his own personal gain.   “ you want to.  in fact, i think it’s all you want. “  he sees him now,  in this light;  the holy struggling to remain righteous, succumbing to the violent desires that only hell can offer.  he’s  HAPPY to oblige.  “  i would.  for a price.  “   his hand shifts,  fingers ghosting over the boy’s jaw.   then, his lips.  he glances up, eyes blown wide from LUST;   from hunger,  a desire to consume all that he’s come to crave.   there’s a line they’re tiptoeing across;  one last push and it might be enough.  “…all you have to do is say yes. “   

Lucifer dropped the man to his knees and turned away from the one who spoke. “Do I look like I want sympathy?” Sympathy was for weak mortals who couldn’t just deal with the hand they’d been given. They looked for it in others under the assumption they didn’t already have it in them. “Enjoy your night.” Lucifer decided as he picked up his drink, still in tact somehow and raised it in a little mock cheers motion before finishing it off. He should’ve stayed home.

Harper only raised his eyebrows at the stranger. “I’m not sure.” The kitsune admitted. Humanity-or non kitsune were always so twisted. He never experienced sympathy just disdain. “I’ll try to be content.” Harper replied raising his glass. He looked at the man on his knees. “What did he do?” The kitsune asked out of the blue. 

 It wasn’t COMMON as much as something that happened every once in a while; Charges who didn’t want the help or just struggled to realise when they needed it and in some attempt not to seem too pushy he’d let them go and would approach them later…-or at least if the situation became calmer. 

Although by all means, the man couldn’t recall a time when he’d been punched for offering help. So this was a whole new level of nuts and something he couldn’t quite help but chuckle about. “I’m fine, trust me…” He attempted to insist. “Nothing I can’t deal with.”

Harper didn’t care for others. There was a time he took offerings but those times were other. Does it make him selfish? No. But could he seem cold? The kitsune suppose.

He looked down at the other, boredom in his eyes. Harper raised his robes and crouch down. Harper clicked his tongue. “Are you sure about that?” Harper asked slowly in that soothing tone of his.”It seems you are in pain, no?” The kitsune hoped the answer was no.

       “ well you’re certainly making up for it now, aren’t you ?  “   it’s an observation,  less bite than bark.   his words were intended to scratch at the skin, leave a vulnerability that he could expose and infect with his poison.  “ all this talk about remaining good.  do you really think it’s enough ?  that a lifetime of  ‘ piety ‘  can make up for the lives you’ve taken ?  the harm you’ve caused ?   last i checked, a sin’s a sin.  sure, you can repent, but i hear the big guy upstairs not the most merciful. “   he twists and twist.   he barely manages to hide the smile,  his hand obliging with the request as he watched him.  the flush to his cheeks exposed another vulnerability,  one even v himself hadn’t foreseen.   “ is that all you want me to do ?  “  he questions, stepping closer.  “…i think you know what you want, you’re just afraid to want it. “  he was very perceptive,  was good at seeing things others wished he WOULDN’T.   “ i’m on the money, aren’t i. “  it’s a statement, not a question.  

It’s easy to forget he’s Lucifer Morningstar because for the most part he’s been tame. Calm. Chill. Whatever the cool kids say these days. The thing is, he’s not calm right now. He’s completely opposite even with the man’s face smashing against the broken glass on the bar. A growl leaves his lips as he faces the approaching presence. “What?” he hissed their way. His expression fowl. He’s the devil after all. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Harper was never chill- even back in the old days. His nickname was Heart of Stone. The fox spirit was hardly paying attention to the scene- just adjusting his chair. The scent of blood was familar and nausating at the same time. “Nothing.” He stated eyeing the other. The kitsune wasn’t afraid of anger. “Am I suppose to sympathsize with either of you?” Haper mused. 

          “ have you ?  what’s the price for their lives ?  how many years of solitude (  of regret )  settles the debt ?   i love a timeline.  maybe 15 years.  20.  will your hands ever be clean ?  will you ever feel  UNBLEMISHED again ?  “  he twists and twists because it’s what he’s good at; what he’s known for.  he’ll twist and shape the truth to be what he wants it to be;  what he requires from it.  there’s a lift to the voice that suggest weakness;  v jumps on it, he exploits it.  it’s music to his ears and a smile on his face.  “ harmony. “  he smirks.  “ the only HARMONY in this world is balance.  life, death. everything in between. “   he pauses, deliberate.  “ bold words coming from someone who tipped the scales. “   v isn’t immune to the effect this vessel has on others.  it’s aesthetically pleasing, its capability for softness as irritating as it is in efficiency for lulling people into a false sense of security.  he exploits that weakness now, feigning compassion as a hand curves against harper’s shoulder.  “ let me help you. “  he murmurs, like the scorpion to the frog.  i won’t hurt you, i swear it.  “ all you have to do is ASK, and i can make it happen.  it won’t even cost you anything.  not for DECADES. “   his voice is smooth, eye creased with concern.  it’s nauseating but has proven effective in the past.