#h3llsfavorite

                                                          𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 …

It was no wonder  Angel would start poking around. Rick hadn’t stopped him—wouldn’t do it either. Curiosity was cheap here, cheaper still in people like that guy, wired to chase noise, even when it burned. What caught him off guard, though, was the fucking photo. The woman in the portrait. He didn’t think Angel would ask. Honestly? Rick simply assumed the guy wouldn’t have spared the damn frame a second thought.

But boredom was its own algorithm.

It drove behavior like hunger did... defined it.

Rick didn’t answer right away. He sat propped in bed, sheets askew at his waist, spine pressed against the chrome paneling of the headboard. Those deep, nova-like eyes had their empty stare locked on Angel—cool, unreadable. There was silence, then more of it… stretched just long enough to feel dangerous.

Then, Rick inhaled.

“If someone came to you offering you godhood... Not just power, but authorship. Control so deep the universe forgets it ever resisted you.” Rick outstretched a hand towards Angel, open palmed, then slowly folded his fingers inwards, as if closing around something imaginary. Maybe power itself, maybe the multiverse. “Everything yours. All the drugs you’ve ever chased, all the highs that haven’t even been invented yet. Pleasure tuned to madness. Sensations so vast they swallow language… and they’re all yours to name.” Rick didn’t blink while speaking, he simply stared, dead in Angel’s mismatched eyes.

valentino had met angel long ago━ they'd done plenty together, to each other, etc, etc. he remembered a lot of the things they had done, but he'd be a liar if he said that the videotape had slipped his mind. his jaw clenched tight, cigarette snapping in between his fingers as his hands gripped into a fist. it's not like it was anything crazy but━

            ❝ that was private, ❞ valentino finally spoke, voice low. but the words felt hollow even as they left him. because he knows angel held the upper hand here. not in wealth, not in influence, not in charm ... but in memory. proof that there was a time where valentino, cool, untouchable valentino, was just a man once. he could feel something.

he exhaled smoke, slow & deliberate. his head tilted, glasses hiding the flicker of something━ fear ? perhaps fascination ? or maybe a sick & twisted combination. valentino forced the corner of his mouth up into that familiar, predatory smile, but he can't quite mask the truth behind it. angel does indeed have a piece him of, one that he couldn't reclaim.

& part of him ... kind of liked it. enjoyed the thrill of what angel had in his hands.

"M' gonna watch my own porn on it-"

      FAINT    OF    HEART    WOULD    NOT    BE    EASED    BY    GRIN    RETURNED    ;    features nearly contorting to contain the levity of the soft discomfort    ,    though it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared.    the pimp was not one to be fooled so easily    –    though particular ignorant attitudes were saved for those much more important than his slut.    admittedly    ,    the nervous nature of @h3llsfavorite was appeasing to him.    the itsy bitsy spider a toy amongst those resting upon the moth’s waterspout    ,    waiting for him to snap & only then would the rain wash him out.    a story for a much more volatile time.

      angel had been good    ,    he’d been serving the vee’s well    ;    for all intents & purposes    ,    he hadn’t pissed off val as of yet.    the smoke the smolders softly from his lips.    not a threat for the moment    ,    though it slithers over the arachnid’s wrists in silent warning before dissipating as sharpened claws take their place.    there has been no damage as of yet.    just    –    a gentle reminder that he should not test the moth    –    should he think to.

      arms carefully wrap around the creature’s waist    ,    tugging him closer to seize whatever distance was still between them.    venom nearly drips from maw    –    though it is excitement rather than manipulation.    ❛❛    close    –    amorcito    ,    try it again    .    .    .    ❜❜    digits run up the star’s arm    ,    landing on his features.    touch gentle for the moment as lips press to jawline.

"The fuck is after-care? That just a fancy way of sayin' Round Two?"

"HAH! Good one, Angelcakes. Y'know, it's almost as if you're sounding like you're SERIOUS. Gotta tell ya, you're r--reEEEUGHally good at that whole acting schtick that comes with your job!"

"...You... You are acting, right?"

Humming  of  old  melody  can  be  heard  as  he  stands  with  hair  pulled  back  by  some  black  ribbon  and  his  don’t  kiss  the  cook  apron  on. Hands  working  carefully  with  a  sharpened  blade  as  it  slices  through  raw  meat  with  ease.  The  meat  in  question  was  just  venison,  nothing  too  crazy  since  he  was  making  dinner  for  everyone  in  the  hotel.  Heavens  know  no  one  else  knew  how  to  cook  more  then  pasta. 

Now  the  culinary  arts  had  always  been  a  passion  of  the  radio  demons;  it  was  after  all  just  another  way  for  him  to  express  himself,  be  it  more  tame  than  his  other  hobbies  haha,  there  was  something  calming  for  him  preparing  venison.  the  dish  in  question  was  Venison  au  Huitres  du  Bienville,  sounds  fancy  the  dish  combines  Venison,  roasted  oysters  with  a  Bienville  sauce.   

The  humming  stops,  his  head  snaps  all  the  way  around  to  see  who  is  behind  me  with  a  bright  grin.  ❝Care  to  try  some?❞  He  offers  the   knife  with  a  bit  of  the  sliced  Venison  at  the  end  of  it.  ❝I  promise  it’s  not  poisoned  and  has  been  cooked.❞