#mothablazing

@mothablazing asked: 'that’s quite a scratch you’ve got there.’

RP MEME :  RANDOM DIALOGUE 2.0

"I'll be okay, just need to clean and bandage the scratch." The scratch on Don's left leg had came from a random sinner trying to ambush him while he was outside the hotel on his break, one of their clawed hands had torn a part of his cargo pants to scratch through the skin of his leg, thus the minor injury.

"Managed to knock out my attacker before they could do any more damage... I don't why they attacked me, probably thought I was an easy target to pickpocket."

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

Soldan sees Vaggie as an older sister, which is important. She lives off strong bonds, and finding her company rather soothing after a long, or stressful day.

She loves the training sessions Vaggie plans out, being naturally ready for combat is a bonus! Only uses sparring levels of fighting, nothing too heavy.

Soldan is always worried about Vaggie, even in a quiet moment. She can't stop this habit, a soft enough heart for anybody that's known her well.

Vaggie's eye widened when she saw the megaphone. Then rolled as she covered her ears to prepare for the onslaught of ear-violation Adam was about to pour out. At least he stopped in less than a minute. Some things never changed. She folded her arms, "For your information, Charlie's not angry at me. As for Lute, yeah, I kinda got that impression. She should try yoga. Great for stress."

Lifts the megaphone back up-

"...'FOR YOUR INFORMATION-'"

And it's back at his side again as he rolls his wrist coyly in her direction, ever the unpredictable nuisance. "We do PLENTY of yoga already. Plenty of-" And now he's grunting and power thrusting his hips against the megaphone held like a fig leaf over a certain divine instrument. "-fucking, UHNNF- yoga! UNF!!" From the sounds he's making, she's probably wishing he stuck to the plot of screaming 'vagina', but she doesn't have to suffer long because he's stopped almost as soon as he's started, gesturing idly with a twirl of talons.

"Clearly it doesn't help. Well, with the 'evicting you of your skin' deal, anyway."

"Desperate?....you need a screen for that self projection, Adam? You and Lute are obsessed with me. At least I've moved on. I know I'll never be an angel again."

"Like I need any help with 'projecting'." The finger quotes says as much, and those can't be proven contempt in a court of law. Annnnd- then the megaphone comes out.

"-VAGINAVAGINAVAGINA!!"

Continued for @mothablazing

"It's just, yeh' know, ah' thought yeh'd be th' best person t' ask this sort of thing to." For Angel Dust of all people to be asking for help with a situation meant that it was something important to him. Normally, he'd be going off about how he could take care of things himself, that he didn't need the help offered, that he had been looking out for himself his whole life.

But romance was something that Angel was still uncertain about. He had never had a partner while alive, and the only thing he had even remotely close to one in death was Valentino. Which really didn't fucking count. He was scared of fucking it up, and rightfully so - the last man he had loved had gotten him to sign over his soul, and now treated him like property.

"It's just....you and Charlie. Yeh' both work so well togetha'. Even afta' th' drama of her findin' out yeh' were an angel before and all that shit, yeh' both worked it out. Yeh' so in love, and it's obvious as shit." A shrug, a push of two upper hands through the fluff of his 'hair.' "How do yeh' manage it? Or how did yeh' both get togetha'? Ah' just..." It was also unlike him to seem so shy. Uncertain.

🎃 from @mothablazing

"How many of these fuckin' things are we plannin' on carvin', Vag? Just because ah've got six arms, don't mean ah' wanna be th' one doin' this all night." It felt like they had already carved twenty or so, when in reality it had probably only been four or five, and he was just a diva. He had already thrown a fit about having to pull the guts out of the gourds, leaving that to Niffty, while several of them carved.

He knew that the goal was to make the hotel look absolutely spooktacular for Halloween. It would ideally end up drawing more sinners in, but Charlie had also wanted it to feel like home for the sinners. He couldn't speak for the others, but Halloween hadn't been celebrated at home. A strong Catholic Italian family, raising their kids through Catholic school? No way, this holiday belonged to the Devil. (Ha, the irony).

Ramon nodded along, listening. "These nightmares could be forgotten memories, though they could also be born from fear---or they could mean nothing at all. Dreams are strange and tricky things."

"But yes, I think it is a good idea to keep a journal. If you were to write a short summary of your day just before you go to bed and then record whatever happens in a dream, you could find the answers for yourself with ease."

"Perhaps something a day or a week ago affected your dreams. Perhaps there is a recurring theme. Perhaps you see fragments of a memory and can piece them together in time."

"Hmmm, weeeeell.... I'll accept it if it's from you."