#cervile

unpopular opinions

Vox isn't spending much time in Vee Tower these days. His partners colleagues had been good enough to patch him into his personal network and leave him in his lab to create a new body, but they weren't inclined to spend much time around him. All their effort was going towards damage control, rebranding, trying to save face for the company, distancing it (and themselves) from him.

Vox is swiftly becoming obsolete.

Maybe that's why he finds himself in the older parts of Pentagram city, wandering by his old haunts. After his little PR nightmare, he was supposed to be lying low, but Vox finds that he's restless. His body may be shiny and new, but he's still getting used to it ; it kind of reminds him of when he'd first dropped into Hell. The horror of waking up in a body he didn't recognize.

So he walks, and tries to refamiliarize himself with himself. And surely it's the nostalgia, the déjà-vu, that makes him see Alastor standing outside the bar they used to frequent. Because actually running into him right now would be a literal fucking nightmare.

I walked in the garden and what did i see?

Fresh blood on some feathers and an old coyote

Smiling and growling, looked straight in my eyes

Said 'ask me no questions, i'll tell you no lies'

Where did you come from? how long will you stay?

Like a curious cat, i kept firing away

He had a great story , that much i could tell

He said, 'i am from heaven and i am from hell'

'for decades and decades i've hunted and roamed

But i go incognito no shape of my own

Sometimes i am human and rather well known

Sometimes i' m the whisper on your nights alone'

'i say!

Can you see, it's not about hope, it's not about truth, don't be naive

Just come dance with me, i'll keep you safe-give you all you can take-

I'll make you happy'

I spun on my heel and i ran toward the street

He was so close behind me i could hear his heart beat

I turned round to face him but he took to the sky

And a dozen old blackbirds started to cry

They said, 'ask him no questions, he'll tell you no lies'

    𝑰𝑭 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬           𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑶    𝑳͟𝑶𝑽͟𝑬𝑫͟ 𝒀̳͟𝑶̳͟𝑼                ﹙  𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡.  @cervile  ﹚

She wanted him to open up to her and talk to her about it, but she was abundantly aware that would be a difficult ask. She hoped the gift she was toting in her apron pocket might incline him to talk to her. If it didn’t, at least it might cheer him up a bit.

“Al!” she chirped, awaiting no time in climbing his pant leg to get to his height. “I made you something.”

He tries to compensate for his lack of understanding by laughing, even if his chuckle comes out more broken and nervous than a reaction to being caught red-handed with a punchline before he's able to deliver. The laughter that rises in volume is one he's heard before; utilized on the rare occasion of the very seams holding @cervile together coming undone — a peak beneath the surface of how truly he did not know the man he had come to admire to be. The idea is absurd, this is true, but perhaps it's the absurdity that surprises them both, and soon they'll be falling into step with each other once more and making their way to the nearest bar to share drinks. A toast to their partnership!

one  of  them  is  a    𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭  𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥  ,     and  it  isn’t  angel  dust    ━━━━     yet  alastor’s    aversion    to  even  the    𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗟     for  an    𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆  𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕     with  him  could  nearly  be  construed  as    𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟     from  certain  angles ,     certain    𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠  𝑜𝑓  𝑡𝘩𝑒  𝑙𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡  .     it  elicits  a    𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝  𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫     at  angel’s  core ;     the  kind  that  usually  precedes  his    bright ,     nasally  cackle    (    his  true  laugh  ,   as  opposed  to  the    𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐘  𝐆𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒     he’s  rehearsed  to  perfection  for  the  sake  of  maintaining  an  allure  that    𝗕𝗘𝗖𝗞𝗢𝗡𝗦    unsuspecting  men  into    𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞     than  he’d    ever  actually  give  them    )  ,   but  angel’s  lips    𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦  𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑐𝘩     into  a  crooked  smile  while  an    𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐝  𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟     gusts  past  his  nares ;    muted  amusement  . 

               the  pursuit  of    𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲     has  proved  to  be  as  easy  as    𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀  𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍     with  cinderblocks  bound  to  his  back ,     but  angel  has  never  known  a  comfortable  life .     thus ,     through  the    𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭  𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬     &     𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭  𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐚  ,     he  carries  himself  through  a    semblance     of  a  daily  routine  with  a  grace  he  has    𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕  𝒇𝒐𝒓  ,     wielding  the  wit  that  has  thus  far  rendered  him  a    𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗩𝗜𝗩𝗢𝗥     amid  a    literal  hellscape  ,    𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛  𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟  𝑡𝑜  ℎ𝑖𝑠  𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ  .   still ,     that  doesn’t  make  it  easy .     there  are  some  days  where  he  wants  to    𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒘  𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇  𝒐𝒖𝒕  𝒐𝒇  𝒉𝒊𝒔  𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏  ,     where  the  desire  to  be    𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁     to  the  searing  ache  of  his  laundry  list  of  troubles  manifests  like  a  gaping  wound  at  his  core ,     a    bludgeoning  fist     tearing  through  him  that    𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬  𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫     into  his    viscera     with  each  passing  second .

                𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗡  𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗦     he’ll  probably  relapse  the  moment  he  drags  himself  back  to  that    stupid  fucking  studio .   but  he     𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬  𝐭𝐨  𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩  𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠  ,     as  embarrassing  and  unflattering  and    𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄     as  it  feels .     he  has  eternity  to  keep    falling  flat  on  his  face  ,     but  if  he  manages  to  get    𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛  𝑎  𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟     closer  to  bettering  his  situation ,     to  finally  gaining    𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗟     over  his    𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝  𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞     for  an  existence ,     it    must     amount  to    something  .   

                (    𝑟𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡     [     .  .  .     ]  .ᐣ.ᐣ    )

               eyes  that  had  been    𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲  𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬     for  most  of  the  evening    flicker     with  the    tiniest  sparkle     of  vitality  at  alastor’s  words .     he’d  been  expecting    𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧  𝗥𝗘𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡    (   it’s  almost  a    game  they  play  ,     at  this  point :     angel  invites  alastor    𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟     and  alastor  takes  another    𝗧𝗘𝗡  𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗣𝗦  𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬  ,     and  angel  really    𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕  𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅  𝒊𝒕  ,     because  it’s  harmless ,    familiar    )  ,     thus ,     when  the  other  man  actually  appears  to  be    𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚  ,     when  he    actually  takes  his  hand  ,     angel’s  mismatched  eyes  nigh  on    𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒  𝑖𝑛  𝑠𝑖𝑧𝑒  .

               then ,     he  giggles ,     face  softening  with  an  amusement  that  is    𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆  ,     somewhere  near  the  placidity  of    𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗟  𝗙𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦 .    “     i  may  not  be  a    𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛  𝑜𝑙’  𝑓𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑙    like    you  ,    al  ,     ”     he  teases ,     gloved  fingers    slotting  between    those  hosting  alastor’s    𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒐𝒓  -  𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒑  𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒔     with  ease ,    “     but  i  been    𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧  𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞     nearly  as  long  as  yer    𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏  ’𝒂  𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓  .     ’t’s  been  awhile  since  i  danced  this  way  ,     sure  ,     but  i  ain’t  forget  how  .     ”    i  never  could ,   though  that  part  remains  unspoken .    “    𝑏’𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒  𝑖𝑡  ’𝑎  𝑛𝑜𝑡  ,     i  danced  real  classy  wit’    plenty  gentlemen     back  in  those  days  .     ”   

               and  there  were  other  dances  that    𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡’𝗧  𝗦𝗢  𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗬  ,     but  that’s    𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕  .    regardless ,   some  of  the    𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡  𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠  𝑜𝑓  ℎ𝑖𝑠  𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒     were  had  in  or  around  the  context  of  a    dance  ,     and  while  much  of  that    long  -  lost  world     from  a    𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄  𝐀𝐆𝐎     has    𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝  𝐭𝐨  𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭  ,     there  are  shards  of  it  he’ll    𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑  𝑖𝑛  ℎ𝑖𝑠  ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡     forevermore .   

                “     ya  mus’  be  in  a    𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍  𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅  𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅  ,    smiles  ,     ”     remarks  angel ,    𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥     &     𝐬𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝     as  he  follows  alastor’s  lead ,     less  than  worried  about    whatever  awkwardness     may  come  with  his    𝗧𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚  𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧  .     he  holds  onto  him  gently ,     but  not  timidly    ━━━━    more    𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒   than  anything  else ,     even  if  making    𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨  𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧     squirm    (     even  if  just  internally    )   is    𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓  𝐅𝐔𝐍     for    𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍’𝒔  𝒐𝒘𝒏  𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍  .    “     charlie’s  a    𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑  𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑦  𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟  ,     ain’t  she  .ᐣ.ᐣ     eitha’  that  ,     or  ya  must    𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲  𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞  𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐬  .     ” 

❝ With a gash that big , I’d be gettin’ ALL the rest I can get ! It’s not even fully healed yet , nope , nuh-uh , this won’t do . ❞