#goodtouch

he's tried not to change their routine too much, but it's been a rocky adjustment. husk's gone out of his way to meet angel in places that aren't just the bar, to free them from the smoky dusk lighting and sharp, persistent smell. nothing to be done about what's done, husk thinks, but there's still space to move forward. gotta think like that down here. he didn't always, not after alastor, but he ain't made of stone, and this place been gettin' to everybody lately.

husk knows without turning that they're alone in the bar as soon as angel's voice melts into the soft mumble he saves for sincerity. angel's a performer by nature, always on to some extent, but the seduction falls away on occasion. his ear twitches, then turns, rotates outward just enough to catch the resonance of the sound. privately, he smiles.

there's a moment in which he can't decide if his pride matters more than angel's. a pause, a mental coin toss, a faltering look into the black hole of outcomes he'd sworn himself away from. when he turns, still traced with fondness, something inside him steps away from the edge. "ain't a surprise to anyone payin' attention."

"looks fine to me," the house hums, leaned heavy on one shoulder. he's done his best to approach angel only when angel wants him, though these moments always feel the hardest; watching angel press and touch his own face gently, turning this way and that in the mirror they'd set up for him, the lights glittering in his eyelashes. the smarter decision is to stand back. nothing this sweet ever lacks bite. his tail curls lightly in the air, the feather-fan rustling hushed against the doorframe.

"i got all the games i need." and maybe a couple more, darkened in the corners of his glittering oasis. there's a difference between the plays one sees and the plays harder found, though the house has often tipped the score in both. "you got somethin', comin' up here and propositionin' me." he leans heavy against his cane, both hands curled tight around its crystal ball head.

despite himself, despite the giddying rush of the floor far below, he's smiling. the house values a brave thing about as much as he values a fair shot. "tell you what," he begins, voice floating low, sharing a conspiracy with this vision in pink and black, "let's make it interesting. you stay." house holds up one steady finger, both laying out his terms and keeping angel from interrupting. "couple'a hours. don't even gotta throw in. just stay. i hear you ain't caused trouble, i'll come find you again."

they're to play nice with all new guests. this one's got a pretty face and a sharp, syrupy voice - spiked, maybe, like a cake soaked in a spirit overnight. he smiles without difficulty, lowering his eye almost shyly to buy himself some time. romero's usually tethered to the stage by choice, meaning he could step down and leave if he really wanted. he tilts his head and considers. will this guy spend any if romero leads him on? the way he's leaning against the piano suggests it's romero's money that'll end up changing hands if they drift towards the bar together.

27. Do they believe in fate? / for both but especially like how house's grasp of things impacts that belief

going crazy and insane. i really struggle to get across exactly how house understands things like fate and luck because for ME i just Know and it's Innate but for house he genuinely has a grasp on these concepts as though they're tangible. like... house knows that luck is not a real thing. luck is a word we've given to a happy coincidence. when he controlls "luck", he's controlling odds. probability. the way the numbers line up. and those numbers will ALWAYS line up arbitrarily. it just so happens that sometimes those arbitrary sequences benefit one person or the other, and he gets to decide who exactly gets the sequence they want. i'm dyscalucliac as we all know so the way i'm imagining it in my head is like. say your winning sequence is 111. it's not "lucky" if that's what you pull, because there's no magical mystical tilt to the air that made it so. the numbers don't know you, the odds don't know you. but if you're about to pull 112, house knows. he can pull the odds around so you instead pull 111. or 333. whatever amuses him more

in a very real way the house IS fate. the arbiter of your odds. of how likely an event is. he can make something happen just by shifting a few digits around in the metaphorical air.

4. Their favorite childhood memory / this is about ambrose but also would house and husk have the same favorite...

ambrose devayne my beloved... his favourite memory is tied pretty exclusively to his first ever Big Win. the nerves and adrenaline of knowing he'd counted and palmed his cards. not knowing if he was going to be caught or if he was going to be good enough to get away with it. the game ending and nobody suspecting a goddamn thing. not even the money or the pats on the back but the act itself of sitting in the suspense and knowing that without them noticing he'd played and gutted every smug man at that table. finally feeling powerful and bigger than himself and like he had a future built on skill that nobody could take away from him. again it has so little to do with the money and so much to do with someone who had grown up in poverty and watched his family struggle reclaiming his future at the expense of those he blames for his hardships. revenge fantasy kind of thing

house is similiar (and i'm using childhood super loosely because house doesn't think about being alive and also built magic kat when he was a really "young" demon) - it's watching magic kat blossom into what it was when he was at his height. knowing that the establishment's success and renown was tied explicitly to him, and that when people talked about it they really meant him. getting proven right is something huge for both house and ambrose both and house especially got to coast on that high right up until alastor won his soul.