[ooc: Saaaame. I understand. I'll back tag forever though ^^;;]
You should be so lucky, bitch.
Last night is a total fucking blurr. I vaguely remember making a bet with Husk for some top shelf shit, then a very wet kiss with some hair pullin', but after that....
He looks like some candy striped pimp but apparently he's some big shot. Never heard of him until the other day. But as someone who has banged just about every big wig in hell... I have this need to fuck him just for my baddie bingo card.
I can understand, there's no rush so take your time.
You're shitting me! Some fucking big shot can't even get fucking laid?
Might want to make sure everything works before you get your hopes up. But you know you've got the best chance babe. No one else is as good at collecting them.
[As the dance continued, being serenaded but the one and only radio demon, Angel genuinely found the experience pleasant. No ulterior motives, no leering eyes, no drugs, no need to put on a show. Just them. It was... refreshingly nice to enjoy something simple. Dancing for the sake of dancing. When Alastor wasn't being terrifying or cold, he was rather charming. No, scratch that, Alastor was always charming. He had this aura about him that Angel couldn't help but to be drawn too.
But then again... Angel had a bad taste in men.
Angels hands were wrapped around the back of Alastor's neck as their dance came to its end. For a moment Angel didn't respond, his body pressed against the other's as he breathed deep and slow. Then a smile crept across his face as one of his long legs snaked around Alastor's waist pulling him closer with a gentle tug. To say he was slightly turned on was an understatement. He weighed the pros and cons of planting a kiss on those lips... So. Tempting. So. Close. Very much instant death. Choices...]
Damn Smiles... You got me. Who knew you were this smooth. Is it too much to ask for an encore performance? [Angel's eyes flickered up and down Alastor's face.]
Alastor was not a fan of others touching him but dancing was an exception if only because there was no avoiding it. Besides, he liked to dance and had so few opportunities to do so nowadays. Normally it was the dance to a tune playing in his head with an imaginary partner. Having someone in his arms, joining him in the dance had been thrilling.
He tensed for a moment as that long leg wrapped around his waist. That was an entirely unnecessary move. Or perhaps not given their positions: He did have Angel in a dip. Likely Angel was securing himself.
Best to focus on that or he might kill the spider on reflex.
"I suppose that could be arranged." He smirked, triumphant in having proved that he was no one trick pony. "Any preference on song choice?"
Angel chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Alastor's obliviousness. That's not the kind of encore he was eluding to. After that dance he was craving for a little bit of the horizonal tango, the four legged fox trot, save a horse ride a cowboy! But Angel was well aware if he voiced his true thoughts, the outcome wouldn't be good. For now, he was content taking advantage of the current situation of holding Al close.
"Hmm... I got a few ideas but think I'll let you pick. You first choice wasn't half bad." Angel hummed, braving to sneak his fingers through the hair on the back of Alastor's neck.
Alastor's ears flicked contemplatively as he shuffled through the scores of music that flitted about the airwaves. Finally, he settled on Ol' Blue Eyes himself: "I Won't Dance". If nothing else, it'd be amusing given the situation.
He straightened Angel up as he began leading once again, guided by the beat of the music.
♪♫ I won't dance, don't ask me I won't dance, don't ask me I won't dance, Madame, with you My heart won't let my feet do things that they should do ♪♫
[Oh, Angel was taking all the mental pictures right now. Damn, where was his hellphone? No one is going to believe that the great and powerful radio demon could make faces like this. Welp, this will be his little secret.
Again he tried to swallow the lump in his throat when Alastor pulled him closer. Damn, it felt so good to have him pressing against him. But Angel had to keep reminding himself not to do anything. Alastor was in no state to make sound decisions. Still, Angel's grin widened and wrapped his arms around Al. One set on his waist and the other pair on the small of his back.]
As you wish, Smiles.
[Briefly he let go of Al with one hand to reach other to switch on the radio on his nightstand, filling the small room with smooth jazz. Ha! Perfect. Angel's hand returned to Al's side and he began to sway slowly to the music.]
Alastor closed his eyes as they swayed. True, it wasn't the most exciting dance, but that wasn't important. Before his dance with Charlie when he'd joined the hotel, he hadn't danced with anyone in years. Who would want to? Honestly, no one even wanted to talk to him most of the time, assuming he'd try to rope them into a deal.
No. No, he refused to think about that now. Let the alcohol and the dance take him away.
Still...
"Whatever you want, if it's within my power, it's yours," he murmured.
He'd heard Angel make comments about how one activity or another didn't come cheap. VIP treatment like this must cost an arm and a leg, but Alastor didn't mind. It was only money and magic. He knew how awkward this must be for Angel. Making him an offer that was in essence a blank check seemed a small price to pay.
Tonight wasn't exactly what Angel had pictured would happen. After being cooped up in that stuffy hotel, Angel wanted to let his hair down, so to speak. Get drunk and hunt for dick. But how the evening's events had unfolded wasn't necessarily unenjoyable. Never in a million years would he have thought he would have a totally wasted Alastor in his arms in his bedroom slow dancing like a couple of awkward virgins at the high-school prom. This totally went against his bad boy image. Yet for now... he was going to take comfort from this quiet moment.
But then Alastor spoke making Angel's head jerk up. For a minute he blinked wordlessly down at Al. Oh he was so drunk... did he realize what he was telling him? He could have ANYTHING he wanted. Deep within the sinner's twisted mind flashed his darkest lustful desires he held for the radio demon. But just as quickly as they danced across his mind, Angel chased them away. It wouldn't be right...
Instead Angel looked down with an unfamiliar softness as he stroked Alastor's hair. "How about I take a rain check on that offer? I doubt you'd be as generous if ya knew what you're offering me. In the morning you can bet I'll be bothering you about it."
Angel would quickly discover that Alastor's hair was sinfully soft. He was the only person in ages to take such liberties with the Radio Demon, the alcohol making Alastor a lot less touch-averse.
Alastor looked up at the spider. "The off--hic!--offer won't be going anywhere anytime anywhen soon." He giggled at his own almost-nonsensical sentence, body twitching against Angel's with another, larger hiccup.
Somehow, Angel's hand brushed the base of one of his fluffy ears. The sensation rolled down and back up his spine, prompting him to close his eyes and moan in bliss.
Instantly Angel's hand froze as if he just touched something he shouldn't have. That noise was the last sound Angel would think for the Radio Demon to make. It sent a tingling shiver down his spine that made his whole body vibrate with desire. God, he wanted to hear it again. Wanted to see what other fun noises he could arouse from him. How could one simple sound turn him on so so badly? It was painful. He could feel his already frayed nerves beginning to shred.
With the last reminds of his willpower, Angel reluctantly removed his many hands away from Alastor, holding them up in some sort of surrender.
"You should call it a night, Smiles. You know I'm a no good lustful sinner. I don't think I can hold myself back for much longer if you keep moanin' like that."
Without the support of Angel's hands, Alastor stumbled as the gently swaying room made it difficult to find his footing. His smile thinned to almost non-existent as he looked up at Angel, eyes filled with confusion and hurt, ears slowly lowering in distress.
They were having such a good time! They'd been dancing and Angel had even stroked his ears! What had happened?! What had he done wrong?!
Alastor's internal receiver swung wildly through the stations as drunken understanding hit Alastor:
He wasn't just some sinner. He was Alastor the Radio Demon. Feared by all in Hell. Nobody wanted to talk to him, much less dance with him. What had he been thinking?
Angel's radio switched stations mid-song as it synced with Alastor's internal receiver. Nat King Cole's voice began crooning away:
♪♫ Smile though your heart is aching Smile even though it's breaking When there are clouds in the sky You'll get by ♪♫
"...I understand."
Alastor's face spread into a wide smile before he turned away from Angel. He stumbled and nearly fell but he caught himself with the nightstand.
He was still very, very drunk but he was no longer the bubbly, happy-go-lucky drunk of only a few moments before. His mood had crashed. Now he wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and drink until he blacked out, hoping that Husk's prescription to numb any and all pain would work.
The dramatic shift in mood in Alastor caused Angel to internally panic. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Thats not-
Actually, this whole evening has been a rollercoaster of emotions for the spider. Drink with Alastor, I said. It'll be fun, I said. Which, at first, Angel found great amusement in how uninhibited the deer had been. Even teased the shit out of him. Seeing Al so outside of his usual self had been fun, even the annoying parts of trying to drag his drunk ass out of the club to protect his ass. And now he was trying to protect the demon from himself.
When Alastor stumbled Angel reflectively reached out to try to catch him but hesitated just mere inches from him. Damn, if he touched Alastor again he....
"Al, no, it's not..." Angel pleaded weakly, pulling back his arms to wrap them around himself in an attempt to resist the temptation of placing them on the deer, "Look Smiles, its not that I don't want to touch ya again. Its very much the opposite. With you moaning and shit... I'm tryin'.... I'm trying to hold myself back from doing somethin' I can't undo if I did it. Say what you want about me, but I'm not the type of guy who'd lay hands on someone blitzed out of their minds."
A sober Alastor would've understood. It was always so easy to give into one's inner demons here in Hell. There was no incentive not to. Honestly, he'd likely share the act with Charlie just to watch her squeal, beam, and annoy the ever-living hell out of Angel about his progress in resisting temptation.
Only Alastor wasn't sober. Thoughts he'd drowned earlier had risen to the surface again with a vengeance, coiling their dark tendrils around him and dragging him down towards the abyss now that Alastor was far too drunk to resist.
But he smiled at Angel. Smiled and laughed and spun on his toes in a grand sweeping pantomime of amusement. The laugh track that accompanied his stumbling was slow and twisted, like a cassette tape being played on a tape player whose batteries were running low. "Oh, my dear, there's no reason for excuses! I do understand! Truly!" He hiccupped and danced a few uncertain steps to the melancholy tune, not-very-subtly putting distance between himself and Angel. "Thank you for such a del-delightful evening but you're right: I'd best be on my way!"
His head swam as the shadows began coiling around him like chains. He belonged to them and the empty, freezing, lonely darkness. He'd had his fun. It was time to go.
Angel clenched his teeth in frustration as his fingertips dug uncomfortably into the flesh of his arms. This wasn't Al. Or maybe it was, just a really pitiful side of himself. Either way, it crawled under his skin.
"It ain't an excuse!" Angel bowed his head, baring his teeth, "You know for a damn fact that if you were sober and you give me the slightest hint of the green light I would mount you so fast your back would give out!" The death grip on his arms loosened as he lets out a long heavy sigh, the anger he felt subsiding slightly. "Think what you want right now. Hate me if ya want. Makes no difference. I'm sure in the morning you'll be thankin' me."
Angel's jerked up to give Alastor a questioning stare. What the fuck does that mean? Alastor doesn't hate him? That sounded false but alright. The radio demon has made it quite clear on several different occasions on how he felt about him... And right now the poot deer was drunk as a skunk. Angel shouldn't take anything he said seriously.
"You must be really out of it if ya' spoutin' nonsense like that." There was no way in Hell Al liked him. He didn't really even like himself.
"I mean it," Alastor slurred. He took a stumbling step towards the two Angels in front of him, the shadows tugging insistently at him but not enough to get him to stop. He started poking the chest fluff of the one slightly to the right. "I don't like your propositions. You're vulgar and irritating. And you seem to think it's funny to wind me up to the point where homicide crosses my mind."
Alastor's drooping ears twitched as he lowered his hand. He lowered his eyes, giving a wry chuckle interrupted by hiccups.
"But ironically that's...that's why I don't hate you. You didn't run away or slam the door in my face or attempt to threaten me when we first met. You...you actively seek me out to annoy me. It's not just me, the quiet in my ears, and the radio in my head."
[Said out loud because Alastor has just walked into the bar, still looking at the last message. He pockets the vile device, wishing he could chuck it down the closest sewer grate.]
[And, yes, he does have a book tucked under one arm.]
And what is wrong with a good book with a good drink, may I ask?
[At the sound of Alastor's sudden voice behind him made the spider jump a bit in his seat. That teleporting bastard.... Seeing the book tucked under his arm, Angel's eyes narrowed. For fucks sake.]
Ain't nothing wrong with curling up with a good book. But we're out on the town tonight! Doubt you can hear yourself think with all the noise.
[A brow raised slightly as buzz of the bar slowly faded with Alastor's presence. This annoying shit again. Bunch of idiots, actin' like they ain't never seen an Overlord before. He knows for a damn fact the body count of the Three Vs wasn't exactly small either.
Whatever.
At least he could enjoy the evening without getting pawed at.]
Still, you're goin' to read a book while with me? What book are you reading that's more fascinating than me?
[The Three Vs have a large body count, but none of them made their reputation by arriving in Hell and immediately slaughtering the old overlords. At least you knew when the Cleanse was coming. Who knew if Alastor was planning another culling?]
[Alastor flashes the book title towards Angel: Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. He then opens up a small portal to slip the book safely inside for easy retrieval later.]
I felt like a bit of light reading, but you're right. It's terribly rude to ignore a speaking drinking companion.
[The bartender puts the ordered whiskey down on a napkin in front of Alastor, hands shaking.]
Ah, thank you! [And going to take a sip while watching the bartender sloooooowly slink away.]
[The bartender is very openly conflicted. Alastor is terrifying but if he does a good job, maybe Angel will sleep with him.]
[Alastor sets his drink back down on the napkin, turning his head just enough so he can keep an eye on the bartender out of the corner of his eye while focusing on Angel.]
Trying to get me drunk or giving our nervous little friend something to do with his hands?
[He's not insulted. More amused. Particularly since the bartender is reaching as far as he can with the bottle to top off Alastor's glass.]
I've read it before but I always find it amusing to compare and contrast with the twisted Wonderland we call "Hell".
[Oh this was going to be fun. The porn star flashed the bartender a fang filled smile, giving him a small flirty wink.]
Maybe a little of both. [Angel chuckled, turning to face Al.] But mostly tryin' to see which with stronger. People's fear of you or their desire to fuck me. Think I got my answer.
[Angel wins. Angel is stronger. Take that!]
So, you sayin' you're Alice? I mean, I'd love to see you all dolled up. Though I think the Mad Hatter might suit you better.
Some? It's sex with me. It's trumps everything. And... [Making sure the bartender could hear... shooting him a flirtatious glance.]... depending on how the night goes, I might not be going home alone tonight~
[Rolling his eyes back over to Alastor, he Grins.]
No, I'm curious. Since you like making comparisons, who do you think I'd be?
[The bartender brightens, inching a little closer to make it easier to refill Alastor's glass when he sets it down. Still keeping his distance as much as possible but basically trying to butter Angel up.]
[Alastor hums in thought.]
Honestly, I don't remember if these characters had names, but I could see you as one of the runners of the Red Queen's Race: running as fast as you can just to stay where you are.
[He picks up the refilled glass and takes a sip.]
Though from a purely aesthetic standpoint, you'd certainly be Alice and I'd likely be more of the Cheshire Cat.
[Clearly at first Angel wasn't amused by Alastor's first puck, his brows furrowing. Really? A nameless nobody? Fucking hell, Al. At least he gave you a title character.
Huffing a snort, Angel scooped up his drink, glancing away to stare at the Wall of liquor bottles behind the bar.]
Nice save, Smiles.
Of course I'm main character material. And you know Alice was one some sort of drug. You can't tell me that she wasn't tripping on something.
Oh you're certainly a character, my dear! The problem is none of the named characters fit you thematically.
[He takes another sip before setting the glass down, ticking off the characters on his fingers.]
Alice is insatiably curious but believes that the world is ordered and rational which is why Wonderland and the Looking-Glass World in the sequel frustrate her so much. Honestly, she reminds me the most of Charlie with how she keeps trying to force her surroundings to fit her ideal version of them.
The White Rabbit is timid and manic, periodically aggressive. The mania and aggression remind me of Niffty but I wouldn't assign the Rabbit to her due to the timidity. Any timidity that ever existed in Niffty is long gone.
The Queen of Hearts is domineering and murderous, constantly ordering her subjects be beheaded for the slightest of mistakes.
The King of Hearts is a pushover though he overrules his wife's execution orders.
The Cheshire Cat uses cold logic to explain Wonderland to Alice.
The Duchess is initially rude to Alice but she soon grows so affectionate for the girl that it feels threatening if not downright disturbing.
The Caterpillar tells Alice about the mushrooms to shrink and grow but he largely treats her with contempt as he smokes his hookah.
The Mad Hatter is impolite and enjoys frustrating others though he gains sanity in Through the Looking-Glass.
The March Hare also enjoys frustrating Alice but he really doesn't do much of anything overall in the story. Though like the Hatter, he does gain sanity in the sequel novel.
The Dormouse just sits at the tea table and drifts in and out of sleep the entire time. Honestly, he reminds me of Husk when he's been drinking heavily.
The Gryphon is the Queen's servant who takes Alice to the Mock Turtle but there's really not much to go on there.
The Mock Turtle is friendly to Alice but overly sentimental and self-absorbed. Honestly, it seems like almost everyone who Falls nowadays would relate directly to him.
Alice's sister simply daydreams about her sister's adventures in Wonderland after the rest of the story is over.
The other named characters in the first novel don't have many character traits to compare (such as the Knave of Hearts who's on trial for allegedly stealing the queen's tarts) or are simply stupid and ineffectual (such as Bill the Lizard).
[He raises a brow at Angel.]
And that's just the first novel. Trying to link you thematically to one of them doesn't work for one reason or another. I could sit here and pour through the following novel's characters, but I run into the same issues of trying to link you to any of them.
But the runners of the Race? Now that one fits well enough for everyone whether they're in Hell or on Earth: putting in every ounce of effort just to maintain what they already have. We don't even know why they're bothering to run the Race from the second novel in the first place. No one actually wins the Race yet they run it anyway.
[The bartender tops off Alastor's glass, a look of utter bafflement all over his face. Honestly, this feels a bit surreal listening to a famous porn star and the most terrifying overlord in Hell discussing literature at his bar.]
[Alastor languidly reaches out to pick up the refilled glass, draining it in a few quick swallows just to have the satisfaction of watching the bartender panic with fear that if it sits empty too long it could ruin his presumed chances with Angel. He doesn't set down the glass right away, further tormenting the other demon by keeping the glass empty.]
That's why I threw in the bit about the aethetics of the characters. That's much easier to compare.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
For chikapolilla
Are you or are you not "Furry Taco" in my contacts?
<3
...of course you would have that be me in your contacts. >:(
But I think I would remember making out w/ you.
For one thing, I'd still be gargling mouthwash and taking showers while questioning how high af you were to consider me kissable.
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ooc: Saaaame. I understand. I'll back tag forever though ^^;;]You should be so lucky, bitch.
Last night is a total fucking blurr. I vaguely remember making a bet with Husk for some top shelf shit, then a very wet kiss with some hair pullin', but after that....
Nadda.
For cravestomisbehave
But a new mysterious hottie moved in. Think things are going to get way more interesting.
craves more than just misbehave, thanks for the continuing <3
Wow, sounds like they need to get out more. But who's the hottie?
Sorry for the long delay. Work was hell...
He looks like some candy striped pimp but apparently he's some big shot. Never heard of him until the other day. But as someone who has banged just about every big wig in hell... I have this need to fuck him just for my baddie bingo card.
I can understand, there's no rush so take your time.
So how into it is he? Or is thing going to be another one of the wear them down over time situations?
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Well... its hasn't gone great so far. But look at me. I am perfection. He'll cum sooner or later~
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Shit yeah he will. Probably wind up stamping your card a few times when he realizes it.
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How fucking infamous would that make me?! Snagging the v-card of the strongest demon in Hell.
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Might want to make sure everything works before you get your hopes up. But you know you've got the best chance babe. No one else is as good at collecting them.
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Oh I plan on making a thorough inspection.
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At least for now.
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I got a nice bottle of Cheval Blanc, scented candles, some new toys to break in, and a nice photo of Al~
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(Even if all of that is way too much information.)
For Lonelysmiles
[As the dance continued, being serenaded but the one and only radio demon, Angel genuinely found the experience pleasant. No ulterior motives, no leering eyes, no drugs, no need to put on a show. Just them. It was... refreshingly nice to enjoy something simple. Dancing for the sake of dancing. When Alastor wasn't being terrifying or cold, he was rather charming. No, scratch that, Alastor was always charming. He had this aura about him that Angel couldn't help but to be drawn too.
But then again... Angel had a bad taste in men.
Angels hands were wrapped around the back of Alastor's neck as their dance came to its end. For a moment Angel didn't respond, his body pressed against the other's as he breathed deep and slow. Then a smile crept across his face as one of his long legs snaked around Alastor's waist pulling him closer with a gentle tug. To say he was slightly turned on was an understatement. He weighed the pros and cons of planting a kiss on those lips... So. Tempting. So. Close. Very much instant death. Choices...]
Damn Smiles... You got me. Who knew you were this smooth. Is it too much to ask for an encore performance? [Angel's eyes flickered up and down Alastor's face.]
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He tensed for a moment as that long leg wrapped around his waist. That was an entirely unnecessary move. Or perhaps not given their positions: He did have Angel in a dip. Likely Angel was securing himself.
Best to focus on that or he might kill the spider on reflex.
"I suppose that could be arranged." He smirked, triumphant in having proved that he was no one trick pony. "Any preference on song choice?"
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"Hmm... I got a few ideas but think I'll let you pick. You first choice wasn't half bad." Angel hummed, braving to sneak his fingers through the hair on the back of Alastor's neck.
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He straightened Angel up as he began leading once again, guided by the beat of the music.
♪♫ I won't dance, don't ask me
I won't dance, don't ask me
I won't dance, Madame, with you
My heart won't let my feet do things that they should do ♪♫
For Lonelysmiles
[Oh, Angel was taking all the mental pictures right now. Damn, where was his hellphone? No one is going to believe that the great and powerful radio demon could make faces like this. Welp, this will be his little secret.
Again he tried to swallow the lump in his throat when Alastor pulled him closer. Damn, it felt so good to have him pressing against him. But Angel had to keep reminding himself not to do anything. Alastor was in no state to make sound decisions. Still, Angel's grin widened and wrapped his arms around Al. One set on his waist and the other pair on the small of his back.]
As you wish, Smiles.
[Briefly he let go of Al with one hand to reach other to switch on the radio on his nightstand, filling the small room with smooth jazz. Ha! Perfect. Angel's hand returned to Al's side and he began to sway slowly to the music.]
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No. No, he refused to think about that now. Let the alcohol and the dance take him away.
Still...
"Whatever you want, if it's within my power, it's yours," he murmured.
He'd heard Angel make comments about how one activity or another didn't come cheap. VIP treatment like this must cost an arm and a leg, but Alastor didn't mind. It was only money and magic. He knew how awkward this must be for Angel. Making him an offer that was in essence a blank check seemed a small price to pay.
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But then Alastor spoke making Angel's head jerk up. For a minute he blinked wordlessly down at Al. Oh he was so drunk... did he realize what he was telling him? He could have ANYTHING he wanted. Deep within the sinner's twisted mind flashed his darkest lustful desires he held for the radio demon. But just as quickly as they danced across his mind, Angel chased them away. It wouldn't be right...
Instead Angel looked down with an unfamiliar softness as he stroked Alastor's hair. "How about I take a rain check on that offer? I doubt you'd be as generous if ya knew what you're offering me. In the morning you can bet I'll be bothering you about it."
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Alastor looked up at the spider. "The off--hic!--offer won't be going anywhere anytime anywhen soon." He giggled at his own almost-nonsensical sentence, body twitching against Angel's with another, larger hiccup.
Somehow, Angel's hand brushed the base of one of his fluffy ears. The sensation rolled down and back up his spine, prompting him to close his eyes and moan in bliss.
"Do that again..."
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With the last reminds of his willpower, Angel reluctantly removed his many hands away from Alastor, holding them up in some sort of surrender.
"You should call it a night, Smiles. You know I'm a no good lustful sinner. I don't think I can hold myself back for much longer if you keep moanin' like that."
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They were having such a good time! They'd been dancing and Angel had even stroked his ears! What had happened?! What had he done wrong?!
Alastor's internal receiver swung wildly through the stations as drunken understanding hit Alastor:
He wasn't just some sinner. He was Alastor the Radio Demon. Feared by all in Hell. Nobody wanted to talk to him, much less dance with him. What had he been thinking?
Angel's radio switched stations mid-song as it synced with Alastor's internal receiver. Nat King Cole's voice began crooning away:
♪♫ Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky
You'll get by ♪♫
"...I understand."
Alastor's face spread into a wide smile before he turned away from Angel. He stumbled and nearly fell but he caught himself with the nightstand.
He was still very, very drunk but he was no longer the bubbly, happy-go-lucky drunk of only a few moments before. His mood had crashed. Now he wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and drink until he blacked out, hoping that Husk's prescription to numb any and all pain would work.
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Actually, this whole evening has been a rollercoaster of emotions for the spider. Drink with Alastor, I said. It'll be fun, I said. Which, at first, Angel found great amusement in how uninhibited the deer had been. Even teased the shit out of him. Seeing Al so outside of his usual self had been fun, even the annoying parts of trying to drag his drunk ass out of the club to protect his ass. And now he was trying to protect the demon from himself.
When Alastor stumbled Angel reflectively reached out to try to catch him but hesitated just mere inches from him. Damn, if he touched Alastor again he....
"Al, no, it's not..." Angel pleaded weakly, pulling back his arms to wrap them around himself in an attempt to resist the temptation of placing them on the deer, "Look Smiles, its not that I don't want to touch ya again. Its very much the opposite. With you moaning and shit... I'm tryin'.... I'm trying to hold myself back from doing somethin' I can't undo if I did it. Say what you want about me, but I'm not the type of guy who'd lay hands on someone blitzed out of their minds."
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Only Alastor wasn't sober. Thoughts he'd drowned earlier had risen to the surface again with a vengeance, coiling their dark tendrils around him and dragging him down towards the abyss now that Alastor was far too drunk to resist.
But he smiled at Angel. Smiled and laughed and spun on his toes in a grand sweeping pantomime of amusement. The laugh track that accompanied his stumbling was slow and twisted, like a cassette tape being played on a tape player whose batteries were running low. "Oh, my dear, there's no reason for excuses! I do understand! Truly!" He hiccupped and danced a few uncertain steps to the melancholy tune, not-very-subtly putting distance between himself and Angel. "Thank you for such a del-delightful evening but you're right: I'd best be on my way!"
His head swam as the shadows began coiling around him like chains. He belonged to them and the empty, freezing, lonely darkness. He'd had his fun. It was time to go.
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"It ain't an excuse!" Angel bowed his head, baring his teeth, "You know for a damn fact that if you were sober and you give me the slightest hint of the green light I would mount you so fast your back would give out!" The death grip on his arms loosened as he lets out a long heavy sigh, the anger he felt subsiding slightly. "Think what you want right now. Hate me if ya want. Makes no difference. I'm sure in the morning you'll be thankin' me."
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Once more, there was no static in his voice. He was "off the air" for a moment. In vino, veritas.
"I hate a lot of people, but you're not one of them."
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"You must be really out of it if ya' spoutin' nonsense like that." There was no way in Hell Al liked him. He didn't really even like himself.
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Alastor's drooping ears twitched as he lowered his hand. He lowered his eyes, giving a wry chuckle interrupted by hiccups.
"But ironically that's...that's why I don't hate you. You didn't run away or slam the door in my face or attempt to threaten me when we first met. You...you actively seek me out to annoy me. It's not just me, the quiet in my ears, and the radio in my head."
For Lonelysmiles
If you're loose then I must be prolapsed. Come on, Smile, you can shit diamonds with out uptight you are.
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[Said out loud because Alastor has just walked into the bar, still looking at the last message. He pockets the vile device, wishing he could chuck it down the closest sewer grate.]
[And, yes, he does have a book tucked under one arm.]
And what is wrong with a good book with a good drink, may I ask?
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Ain't nothing wrong with curling up with a good book. But we're out on the town tonight! Doubt you can hear yourself think with all the noise.
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[He sits down at the bar beside Angel, the bartender freezing in sheer terror.]
A glass of whiskey. Neat if you please.
[The bartender swallows and begins pouring the drink.
[Other patrons are starting to go quiet as they start to realize that, oh hey, guess who just walked in.]
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Whatever.
At least he could enjoy the evening without getting pawed at.]
Still, you're goin' to read a book while with me? What book are you reading that's more fascinating than me?
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[Alastor flashes the book title towards Angel: Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. He then opens up a small portal to slip the book safely inside for easy retrieval later.]
I felt like a bit of light reading, but you're right. It's terribly rude to ignore a speaking drinking companion.
[The bartender puts the ordered whiskey down on a napkin in front of Alastor, hands shaking.]
Ah, thank you! [And going to take a sip while watching the bartender sloooooowly slink away.]
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Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just cause Angel knows why people are after of Al doesn't mean he doesn't find it stupid as fuck.First turning his attention to the bar tender, Angel flashes his gold tooth, resting his fluff on the counter.]
I better not see my date's glass empty so keep 'em coming, okay doll?
[The starlet bats his eyes at the demon before looking over to Alastor, suspiciously.]
Really? Ya brought that book? Haven't you already read it before? You seriously needed to bring it.
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[Alastor sets his drink back down on the napkin, turning his head just enough so he can keep an eye on the bartender out of the corner of his eye while focusing on Angel.]
Trying to get me drunk or giving our nervous little friend something to do with his hands?
[He's not insulted. More amused. Particularly since the bartender is reaching as far as he can with the bottle to top off Alastor's glass.]
I've read it before but I always find it amusing to compare and contrast with the twisted Wonderland we call "Hell".
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Maybe a little of both. [Angel chuckled, turning to face Al.] But mostly tryin' to see which with stronger. People's fear of you or their desire to fuck me. Think I got my answer.
[Angel wins. Angel is stronger. Take that!]
So, you sayin' you're Alice? I mean, I'd love to see you all dolled up. Though I think the Mad Hatter might suit you better.
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[Alastor picks up his glass to have a long drink. Screw it. He didn't want to go out to a bar, but he'd agreed anyway more to prove a point.]
Oh no. I'm certainly more of a Mad Hatter than an Alice. I'll leave the pinafores to you, my dear.
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[Rolling his eyes back over to Alastor, he Grins.]
No, I'm curious. Since you like making comparisons, who do you think I'd be?
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[Alastor hums in thought.]
Honestly, I don't remember if these characters had names, but I could see you as one of the runners of the Red Queen's Race: running as fast as you can just to stay where you are.
[He picks up the refilled glass and takes a sip.]
Though from a purely aesthetic standpoint, you'd certainly be Alice and I'd likely be more of the Cheshire Cat.
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Huffing a snort, Angel scooped up his drink, glancing away to stare at the Wall of liquor bottles behind the bar.]
Nice save, Smiles.
Of course I'm main character material. And you know Alice was one some sort of drug. You can't tell me that she wasn't tripping on something.
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[He takes another sip before setting the glass down, ticking off the characters on his fingers.]
Alice is insatiably curious but believes that the world is ordered and rational which is why Wonderland and the Looking-Glass World in the sequel frustrate her so much. Honestly, she reminds me the most of Charlie with how she keeps trying to force her surroundings to fit her ideal version of them.
The White Rabbit is timid and manic, periodically aggressive. The mania and aggression remind me of Niffty but I wouldn't assign the Rabbit to her due to the timidity. Any timidity that ever existed in Niffty is long gone.
The Queen of Hearts is domineering and murderous, constantly ordering her subjects be beheaded for the slightest of mistakes.
The King of Hearts is a pushover though he overrules his wife's execution orders.
The Cheshire Cat uses cold logic to explain Wonderland to Alice.
The Duchess is initially rude to Alice but she soon grows so affectionate for the girl that it feels threatening if not downright disturbing.
The Caterpillar tells Alice about the mushrooms to shrink and grow but he largely treats her with contempt as he smokes his hookah.
The Mad Hatter is impolite and enjoys frustrating others though he gains sanity in Through the Looking-Glass.
The March Hare also enjoys frustrating Alice but he really doesn't do much of anything overall in the story. Though like the Hatter, he does gain sanity in the sequel novel.
The Dormouse just sits at the tea table and drifts in and out of sleep the entire time. Honestly, he reminds me of Husk when he's been drinking heavily.
The Gryphon is the Queen's servant who takes Alice to the Mock Turtle but there's really not much to go on there.
The Mock Turtle is friendly to Alice but overly sentimental and self-absorbed. Honestly, it seems like almost everyone who Falls nowadays would relate directly to him.
Alice's sister simply daydreams about her sister's adventures in Wonderland after the rest of the story is over.
The other named characters in the first novel don't have many character traits to compare (such as the Knave of Hearts who's on trial for allegedly stealing the queen's tarts) or are simply stupid and ineffectual (such as Bill the Lizard).
[He raises a brow at Angel.]
And that's just the first novel. Trying to link you thematically to one of them doesn't work for one reason or another. I could sit here and pour through the following novel's characters, but I run into the same issues of trying to link you to any of them.
But the runners of the Race? Now that one fits well enough for everyone whether they're in Hell or on Earth: putting in every ounce of effort just to maintain what they already have. We don't even know why they're bothering to run the Race from the second novel in the first place. No one actually wins the Race yet they run it anyway.
[The bartender tops off Alastor's glass, a look of utter bafflement all over his face. Honestly, this feels a bit surreal listening to a famous porn star and the most terrifying overlord in Hell discussing literature at his bar.]
[Alastor languidly reaches out to pick up the refilled glass, draining it in a few quick swallows just to have the satisfaction of watching the bartender panic with fear that if it sits empty too long it could ruin his presumed chances with Angel. He doesn't set down the glass right away, further tormenting the other demon by keeping the glass empty.]
That's why I threw in the bit about the aethetics of the characters. That's much easier to compare.