#delabor

[ 📲 • ??Goth Murder Guy ] —— Samael. Hebrew. "Venom of God."

[ 📲 • ??Goth Murder Guy ] —— in Arabic, Samsama'il. alternative: Smil.

[ 📲 • ??Goth Murder Guy ] —— frequenter of the Hot Topic.

/// love that Bern's met exactly two (2) angels and their reactions to both were

Castiel: I will annoy, love, and protect this awkward trench coat cosmic horror with my life so HELP ME his dad

[ EDEN AFTER DARK ] @delabor

[ ϟ ]—– The place is more cathedral than cabaret, if worship was to be done with silk, sin and stained desire.

Firstly the scent is noted; something akin to myrrh beneath cheap perfume, tobacco ghosting through incense, then the drag of time that had tainted the floor where saints would once kneel. Now it was abused by lacquered heels of dancers, the air becoming velvet, thick enough to chew, not lit by moonlight or starshine but by pulsing red halos and strobes overhead.

Stepping across the threshold with the weight of purpose slung over the god's shoulders thunderer's boots thud heavy over stonelike floor repurposed from what was once a church of sorts, now slick with spilled whiskey and holy neglect. Rhythm coils around him, low and oddly void of true melody, the hum beneath it all more felt than heard.

Finding the man was not an easy task, the words of The Seer echoing in his mind.

" You must seek the one Heaven forgot but cannot erase. He dances with damnation, and drinks like he is daring the void to try again. " The location, the visual, it had all been vaguely described in the maddening cryptic language all Seers seemed to suffer from, and admittedly, seeing him comes with a wash of relief.

Draped like a serpent king in the backmost booth, surrounded by half-empty glasses and bodies coiling around him, clearly seeking his favor.

' You. ' Thunderer speaks the word unceremoniously, barely containing the distain from the bass that cuts through all other sounds.

The first 5 Asks to send 💋 get a kiss

˚　.˚　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　☠︎ Maybe he's taken one too many pain killers after a run in with the bat, and the fact that he was drinking on top of it probably didn't help. But he needed to be numb after such humiliation, but more importantly after losing some important cargo. So he needs a distraction.

"Equal opportunity mutiliater, huh?"

Solid guess, considering the fruit aren't even safe from some type of perversion.

"I've met sorority girls with the same rap sheet, man. You gotta do better than that."

He'd really like to rock that smug not-Sam look off not-Sam's face, but in the temporary interest of self-preservation, he hangs back at the entry way. Watching.

Might be wise to figure out what the fuck he's dealing with first.

@delabor || random inbox bullshit!! || that i freaking love. :>

"coughing up blood w a s hot actually. you look great doing it bud keep it up!" thumbs up !

"know what? sometimes i forget the colossal sized dick you are." another mouthful of blood and spit hits the ground. this time? his own doing so--hey!!! he's sorta winning now, isn't he?? or.. er?? on the less shit-tacular side of losing?? "thanks for the reminder, man.."

brief pause. couple'a heartbeats later..

&&&. always observant ; far from foolish viridian gaze streaks like shooting star captures meteor bound behind back he has always burned like the dying breath of a galaxy.

"banishing spell on pesky tax collectors." curling hand to flick away any suspicion of her insincerity.

lie