#makingdeals

@makingdeals whispered a line !! lana del rey sentence starters ( accepting! ) "I know that we've got problems. I plan to address them another day."

tch. of course that would be the response to trying to have a decent conversation about what's all happened. irritation flickers through vox violently, manifesting in a surge of electric static between them. nothing happens, not really, but the air is charged in a way it wasn't before.

❛ we might as well address them now, ❜ he argues angrily, trying to step in the way of the potentially fleeing conversation partner. ❛ what's the point of putting it off, huh? or do you actually intend to never speak to me about any of it? ❜

that's his suspicion, anyway. that he's going to keep running from this for as long as possible. he doesn't want ... this. whatever this is, to keep going, to keep being ... so difficult. he wrestles with his emotions, trying to sound less desperate. he doesn't know how to do this! it's not like with val, whose problems with him are often surface level. easy to resolve, usually just needing some time for them both to cool off before they can come back together and things go back to normal.

he feels pathetic. for wanting to fix things, for wanting to solve this. there's not an ounce of care on alastor's side, is there? he wonders if there ever was, and then shakes away the thought.

Angel should never have gone back to Valentino.

“Whatever liessss you told the Princessss to even begin to convince her to let you of all people sssstay in this dump heap.” Pentious glares at him with obvious disdain, his hood twitching irritably as he stands up from the sooty mess that was the fireplace in the hotel foyer, clearly in the middle of cleaning out the chimney from gunk. He wipes down his face with a rag, his suit and hat absent in favor of gloves, a soot stained button up, and a leather work apron, tools strapped into loops in the front of it.

Everyone had gone to accompany Lucifer for a supply run to another ring, even Husker and Nifty — the feline opting for a bit of fresh air, and the petite cyclops in tow without much coaxing. Everyone had gone and for the better. Because what happens in the few hours Charlie has the hotel to herself is when she screams. A crash and a frantic struggle that ensues within her room ends in the double doors to her suite exploding open, wood splintering off its hinges when the heir of hell comes crashing through them in a spasm of dramatic movements.

Shoulders twitching and jerking back in a violent manner as fabric tears and knees buckle, half crying and keening in agony as the growth of the feathery appendages leaves her with little to no room to navigate. She catches herself falling and slamming into multiple surfaces, nails digging and clawing against the wallpaper as she tries to grab onto anything, only to leave slashes and streaks of the creature that had once passed through. Blood trails behind her until part of her explodes, bone and feathers tearing through her flesh as a spray of blood exits from beneath her wounds. The shriek that shoots out of her lungs is unmatched. Practically throwing herself down the stairs before coming to a halt at the bottom where she lay in agony for another thirty minutes.

@makingdeals continued from x.

As much as Satan wanted to stay out of the Pride ring's affairs in a case like this, it was incredibly hard to ignore the fact that Alastor had seemingly... appeared out of nowhere. Satan didn't concern himself too much with where he came from, more so just the fact he was surprised to see someone like the Radio Demon still around and kicking to some capacity. Satan remembered the days when there were countless numbers of people who were signing away their souls to Alastor...

it never did seem that people had learned their lesson about that, which he did find funny in a weird way.

Either way... the way he spoke to him did bring back memories that Satan didn't think he had, more so of hearing the broadcasts that Alastor had put out for so many years before vanishing. Not that he vanished for too long, but it was enough for Satan to have noticed the change at the very least. Again, which was a bit odd, but he always found Alastor interesting in a way. Not that he cared too much about him, he really didn't, but there was enough interest to notice when things started to get picked up on the airwaves again for sure.

Satan just knew there would be some chaos that started coming up again because of it all... which means he had to go and work more, which he wasn't a fan of, but... what could he do about that beside executing Alastor?

❝Mmm. Lucifer may not do things in a way I have ever really approved of, but it doesn't mean I always had my greatest moments as the leader of this blasted place,❞ he remarked with a shrug of his shoulders, ❝But it's hard to miss such a presence when all I heard was you making waves on the damn radio for years. Considering it's been a few years...❞

He titled his head to one side, inspecting the Radio Demon, as if he would start pulling out weapons to try and attack him. No malice in his eyes, however... it really was just curiosity right now. And however long that curiosity lasted, would be how long Satan tolerated being in Alastor's presence.

❝You must not be in the best shape to have missed quite a few Extermination Days. Truly a shame too, because we've made some fun findings recently thanks to weapons that have been supplied to some of the Angels of Heaven.❞

no offense, but if you're the last to know, that's on you. - @makingdeals

“How th’ fuck am ah’ s’posed t’ know shit if no one tells me!? It ain’t like ah’m constantly up people’s ass t’ get th’ deets.” On a regular day, with regular information, he might have brushed it off. Played it cool. He didn’t like everyone to know all of his business, so why the fuck should he know theirs? But this was different. This was crucial in so many ways, and if he expected anyone to be on his side with this, it would be Alastor.

“Ah’ know Charlie’s a big believa’ that everyone can be redeemed, everyone needs a second chance, everyone can get it if they try hard enough, blah blah blah blah.” Mocking with hand in the air like a little hand puppet, before dropping it, shoving it under his armpit in a tightly crossed display of internal temper tantrum. “Love her dearly, but this one time? Charlie can shove her naïve little rainbow all th’ way up her ass.” Which was enough to show exactly how pissed he was.

And now he’s pacing the floor, unable to sit still for a moment, trying to keep his emotions down and not give Alastor the satisfaction of seeing him have a break down that on a good day could rival Valentinos. Looking at the floor – more like glaring at it – as he tries to think. To process. To understand just how this all happened, and how he hadn’t heard about it until this point. For all intents and purposes, he should have been the first to hear about this – from more than one source.