Stel Baldwin || 38 || AngelMobster: Owner of Maison Derriere
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kennedylucchese:
“Oh my god,” Kennedy said with a laugh and a shake of her head. “You care. You actually fucking care if something happens to me or my wings.” Laughter tore through her due to the fact she never thought this day would happen and the wine she was drinking. “Relax~ They are sturdier than they look and very sensitive.” She winked at him.
“Just because you make these outlandish claims doesn’t make them true, sweetheart.” Stel could roll his eyes, but didn’t give Ken the satisfaction. “I will say I made for a way better bodyguard back in the day than that smoke guy you’ve got now.”
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kennedylucchese:
Kennedy took a sip of her champagne before sticking her tongue out at him. “You are just jealous, Stely. Stop being a downer and let me have some fun with them for once.” For added affect she fluttered her wings, stretching them out some more. “Besides keeping them hidden all the time hurts.”
“Not much to be jealous of.” He had his own pair, sturdier wings in his opinion. “Forget it.” The angel breathed, aware that he should take more care in expressing such concern. Especially when it would do him no good. “Fine. Let ‘em stretch, but if someone trips and tears a piece off, I’m going to be right over here laughing and saying I told you so.”
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@kennedylucchese
“You really feel safe having your wings exposed like that?” Stel asked, trying not to appear concerned for his sort-of-sibling as he was. “I don’t think you have anyone here fooled.”
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Masquerade Charity Ball
Falling Angel Stel Baldwin representing Maison Derriere
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silk: do you have more inner or outer beauty?
I guess it would all depend on what you consider beautiful. Angels tend to have a pretty look, but there’s a whole lotta nasty going on behind the curtain. Shit you could never begin to fathom or understand. ‘guess it’s what you’d call… a cross to bear.
That’s why falling’s always been such an appealing deal. Might be rotten underneath, but I get way more beauty rest.
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aryana-emzini:
A petite brunette shoved past Aryana with tears in her eyes. The demon looked in the direction she had come from and laughed. She plopped down into the seat next to Stel and patted his shoulder. “Making young girls cry, Stel? Is this your new favorite hobby?”
Stel was smirking by the time Aryana sidled but beside him, though he didn’t look up from the screen even once. “It never ceases to amuse me. I’d like to see what a bullet in their leg would do.” Letting out a snort he shook his head. “’people in this town need a better excuse to cry.” They were just so wimpy.
“I’m surprised to see you. Aren’t there enough bloody pulps at the hospital to mop up for two lifetimes?” Legs kicked up at the private group lounge in Maison Derriere, he took a big swig from his glass of top shelf scotch.
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coramathers:
“Everyone is entitled to their wrong opinions, actually,” Cora quipped with a smirk. In a swift movement, she closed the laptop in front of Stel so that he no longer looked at her profile, making sure the click of it closing could be easily heard. “Me? Crying? To you of all people? The day that becomes my only option will surely be my rock bottom.”
“I mean. Right or wrong. Still an opinion in general.” The angel shrugged with a dismissive hand, not putting out the effort to stop the woman from taking back her hardware. “As much as I’d like to see rock bottom, your impending tear-fest has been cordially uninvited from either shoulder.”
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aliciadelmar:
“Oh you are going to insult my Pinterest board because you have nothing better to do?” Alicia didn’t often get annoyed or angry. But she was under a lot of stress and pressure, and in times like that it was alway the little thing that was the tipping point. “Did you ever think that maybe I organized it for myself not you? Maybe I like the way I have it!”
“Well--... maybe.” Stel huffed and his eyes grew wider as the waitress caught him at his own game. With a hand on his hip, he remained leaned over with his other arm propped against the counter. To appear more hip and friendly amongst the recently disengaged staff, Stel had added most of them to his social media accounts to learn and also stalk... just a little bit. “Oh yeah. I can tell this wasn’t organized for me. How in the world do you find anything you need?”
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coramathers:
“And who the hell are you to judge my Pinterest capabilities? I didn’t ask for a critique, pretty boy. Besides, I only do that shit pinning when I’m bored - I don’t invest my entire life into it like some people do.”
“Everyone is entitled to their opinion and for me that cardinal rule goes premium. And the pleasure is in organization. In everything.” Stel adjusted the glasses he had no need for and let out a sigh while ‘tsk’ing over the Pinterest page he was currently viewing. “When you wanna find that one recipe for ‘single pan teriyaki and scallion salmon’ don’t come cryin’ to me.”
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“Your Pinterest is a god damned catastrophe.”
“Baked and no bake desserts need two different boards. Fruit base and chocolate base. Same for dream wedding pins. At the very least, that shit deserves color coordination. Maybe separate dress boards? I mean down to the skirt length and sleeve style, sug’.”
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hunterxhunted:
Vince glanced sideways at Stel, narrowing his eyes as he continued to jest about the very recent crime. “You pay for the liquor not the smile.” He drawled. “I think we’re all still in a bit of shock. Murders don’ happen every day here, pal.”
“Hm.” Stell huffed with a crooked grin, taking a gander of the man not far down from him at the counter. “'down a few more of these, everyone in this bar will be smiling.” Letting out a soft tsk sound, the angel shook his head, “If you ask me, this town better get used to having innocent blood spilled, or maybe it’s time for the supernatural to actually stick up for themselves. Laws on paper don’t resonate very clear when punches start being thrown.”
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“You’d think somebody died or something.” Stel joked with the bartend, but no one was laughing with the angel today--which was just fine. He was more than content when laughing at his own taunts as he was typically the funniest guy in any room. “Come on. Pour me a drink with a smile. It’s partly what I’m paying for.” The angel sighed and took a deep swig of his drink.
There were other hunters in Klamenth. This was a possibility Vince had always considered, but not all hunters were alike. Many focused only on the violent individuals, the problems, not entire supernatural races. Those were the fanatics. But the fanatics were the problem, much more than the few dangerous supernatural people out there; because they were organized, they knew how to evade the law and they were sowing discord in their otherwise happy little town.
Now Vince didn’t consider Klamenth his home, not anymore than any other stop he had been on in his travels, but he still had work here. What if the people rioted, tried to hunt the hunters. He couldn’t take an entire town. Would they believe him if he plead his case? And what would happen to the town if they did start stringing up the vigilantes; it could destroy them.
Vince sat at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, eyes holding a far away look. Maybe he’d break away from his vampire hunting; try to get to the bottom of this new mystery. Someone had to, before it was too late.
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angels who stay awake too late, missing their bodies of light that needed no sleep, missing being amongst those stars. angels who wake up early and greet the sun, golden like their souls, and cannot stand to lay in bed when the world is so beautiful. angels who simply sleep, hoping for dreams to uncover who they once were, resting their mortal bodies.
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