#faustianbargaining

     he was taken aback, visible brow shooting up as he blinked. geez, who pissed in her cheerios? he was trying to be a deep for once and he gets snapped at? guess what he’s not doing again. he should’ve snapped back, mind whirring on instinct to be a complete jackass; one almost slipping from his tongue that he squashed with a sigh. 

x

“–No, I haven’t.“ He pauses for a moment, though, not entirely sure if that’s the right answer. It’s true that he has never taken someone’s life. Hopes he never will. Did come scarily close a few times during the first few weeks in Hellsalem’s lot when he was still getting used to things and had his guard up even higher than now. He really regrets that. Marcus would hate himself even more if he did end up killing someone.

Work, Queen.

God bet the Devil he could not sway his most devoted subjects.

They played this game quite often, in different incarnations in history. It’s not a competition because, spoiler alert, no one wins in the end. One could argue the Devil gains souls and God won fear over man. But when tempted by Mephistopheles, Faust threw caution to the wind for his earthly desires.

“Oh shit he’s back, look busy.”

Mephistopheles did warn Faust of what he was getting into when he agreed, while God sat back waiting for the doctor’s repentance. Becoming younger, falling in love, being content, it all came and went. Faust still tried to save himself from the consequences, trekking through Hell, without balking the Devil’s path. Even with his commitment issues, premarital pregnancy, girlfriend’s suicide, and loss of his eternal soul.

You know the party don’t start ‘til I walk in.

How could God have possibly considered him; who without hesitation sold his heaven bound soul for a life of perfection and fulfillment, as his most respected soldier? Would the God-fearing man still sell his soul for a menial comfort? Of course he would.

Deep down a man is still his desires, God does not serve him.

“Never chase anything to the end of the world; it’s how you end up in hell.“ 

HER  HUMMING  MELTS  INTO  THE  ABYSS  of  corporate  browns  and  grays.  hummer’s  expression  remains  blank,  blue  gaze  smothered  into  the  neutral  walls.  it  is  undoubtedly  pleasant,  but  gentle  enough  to  just  barely  trace  a  line  through  the  office.  

IN  TRUTH,  HE  WAS  NEVER  too  sure  what  to  do  when  brought  to  the  office.  his  powers  were  for  destruction,  fighting,  not  paperwork  and  strategy  —  this  fact  did  not  escape  him.  in  contrast,  she  carries  a  halo  of  airiness  about  herself.  celeste’s  voice,  the  aroma  of  freshly  brewed  tea,  paints  wide  swatches  onto  the  grays  of  libra.  there  are  pastel  pinks,  vivid  blues,  an  earthy  green  gliding  across  the  canvas.

HE  AWAKENS  ONCE  AGAIN,  focus  turned  instantly  towards  celeste.  a  toothy,  characteristic  grin  is  brought  her  way.  his  tone  carries  an  unabashed  kindness,  warmth,  despite  another’s  blood  running  down  his  throat.

It all started with a supposedly simple murder case (not like there could be a complicated case when he was the one solving it), which later turned out to be not so simple. It wasn’t that he couldn’t solve it, far from it. It didn’t take more than a quick glance at the body to figure out the modus operandi and the killer. That was where the real problem lied.

Three shots to the chest and a shattered jaw. They knew exactly what it meant.

And that was when things went to hell. Quite literally.

Maybe they left compromising evidence behind and decided to come back for it, maybe they were trying to find and silence a possible witness, Ranpo didn’t have enough time to look at the scene to know before the bullets started flying.

Some part of him was vaguely aware that this was exactly the reason to why the president always insisted on having someone with him every time he had a case to work on, but he didn’t really have the time to focus on that thought before being forcefully dragged behind a wall for cover.

His mind was already working as fast as possible, taking in every single detail that could help them get out of this situation alive. Then, he felt something warm and wet dripping on his arm. There was a bullet wound on Dazai’s shoulder.