#ℒ | And now I have the power to bathe all of you in entertaining fire. ( To track. )

[fangsforhire]

@eyeless-smiles followed from | ℒ |

The craving for whiskey was to be expected after the tedious day he’d had. It had quite honestly been one headache after another, he had half the mind to say to Hell with it all and travel down under. ( Earth was overrated, and humans were a thorn in his side, their minds grating on his very being. ) Usually, he did his best to block them out and fought for what internal solitude he could grasp but there were days like these when it became almost impossible to find the willpower. The problem was, you let one in? The rest followed.

Tongue swiped his teeth impatiently, listening to the soft lub-lub of the heart he’d become fixated with, attention unwavering. There were few places where people could go missing and no one bat an eyelid, though experience had taught him motels were frankly the perfect hunting ground. Often visitors to them were lying low, and when one knew what to look for, it wasn’t difficult to discern the criminals from the innocents. ( Oh and weren’t they interesting? ) He had been tracking this one for an hour now, awaiting the perfect moment to strike. It would be easy to slip into the room, undetected. Play a little game or two. The thought was thrilling after a week of being on his best behaviour and his plan was just about in motion. It wouldn't be long now before he could make a move-

Wait what the fuck was that? 

Breath caught between his teeth, the sudden stench of death to blame for abrupt hesitance. In the opposite direction across the parking lot, something graphic had just taken place, and well his attention was now piqued, not just for that reason. ( No amongst the waves of the deceased, was another scent, void in nature. Huh, how could that be? ) His nose wrinkled, completely distracted from his earlier agenda, trying to pinpoint the source. Not a demon - at least not one he’d ever heard about. Nah, this thing was unique, it’s incense almost smokey. 

Changing course, it took him mere moments to reach his fresh destination, the aroma still just as perplexing. One nudge and the door fell open, interrupting the creature, causing them to hiss. ( Ah if he had hoped he would be able to work it out from sight, alone, he was vastly disappointed. ) No amount of squinting provided aid, a laugh humming from his response at the evident confusion. Well, at least it was mutual. 

‘Fuck me. I could ask you the same question, gorgeous.’ 

Wasn’t he a sight for sore eyes? Sapphire gaze roamed him, coming up empty on his origins, which was refreshing in itself. In all his time of existence, he had to confess it was rare to be so out of his depth, and yet despite expecting a grisly murder, he hadn’t been anticipating this. Whatever it was. ( It was both exquisite and deadly, suspended blade in hand, over what he could only imagine was the remains of a meal. Each to their own. He wasn’t one to judge another’s diet; yet, there was something poetic about the scene, wasn’t there? ) Head cocked to the side, casually allowing the door to click shut behind him, polished shoes moving across the floorboards to admire his handiwork closer. Talk about aesthetically pleasing. Mmm.

‘Now, I know they joke about love at first sight but this a little over-kill, don’t you think?’

[fangsforhire]

Jaw clenched with anticipation as he strained to catch Maze’s announcement of her presence. He had felt a foreboding sense that his father was on the verge of making a rash decision for days. Ever since Chloe had discovered his true identity as the Devil, the atmosphere had been charged with tension. Describing Lucifer as stressed would be a bloody understatement. ( Humans were clearly out of their depth in their world. Anything out of the ordinary tended to bewilder them, pushing them to the brink of losing their sanity but could they really be blamed? It was a lot for anyone to process. ) He, too, had struggled to accept the shocking truth of his connection to Hell. However, unlike Chloe, his reaction had been different. Lucien preferred to believe that she had been manipulated and placed the blame squarely on Kingsley. 

Oh, if only he had been able to confront him before Maze had.

It was difficult to accept that he hadn’t been there then and that now the damage was fucking irreparable. Therefore, Maze’s arrival with such a dark expression was hardly a comfort and her words, filled with venom, caused him to flinch. ( He was gone. Why? Where? ) His eyes darted to his phone, without needing to question who ‘he’ was, wondering if he’d at least offer contact when he was ready, only half-listening to Maze’s murmurings about Decker, and the fact that she seemed to have been the last person to see him. Figures. Fuck. He hadn't planned on visiting the precinct any time soon, but his father's sudden departure was unexpected. Despite his irritation towards humans and particularly towards her, he pushed those feelings aside and headed for the station. It was effortless to blend in, knowing exactly where to go. ( Chloe’s scent, intermingled with his father's, only intensified his anguish. ) Seeing the detective trying to keep busy, his anger subsided, albeit slightly. Dismissing the question as foolish, he couldn't comprehend how anything could be fine under current circumstances. Surely she was joking?

‘No obviously not, what did he say to you, Decker? Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Look - fuck, I’m worried about him and if you know anything about me, you know that means this is serious.’

closed starter for @fangsforhire

"Lucifer, we can still-," Chloe started to say. "No, Detective," Lucifer cut her off. "I think this best for me and for everyone." Not for everyone, Chloe thought, silently casting her eyes down. But, what could she do? Lucifer seemed dead set on leaving. She couldn't stop him. All she could do was try not to burst into tears. "I just want to say-" his voice made her look back up at him. He gave her a sad smile. "Great last case," he held out his hand. "Great partnership." She reached out and took his hand and gave it one shake, afraid to speak because she knew she'd start crying. "Right," Lucifer quickly turned around and exited the conference room. Chloe watched him walk up the stairs exiting the precinct. She wanted to run after him, beg him not to leave, tell him how sorry she was for hurting him, tell him that she still wanted him in her life, but she didn't. And he didn't turn around. At the top of the stairs, he turned the corner and then he was gone. Forever.

Chloe sniffled and took a deep breath. She couldn't cry. Not now. Not until she got home. Maybe not ever. Lucifer was gone. So, what? She was fine before him, she'd be fine after him. She was still on the clock, she had to work. She went back to her desk to started the final paperwork needed for the case and kept her head down. She didn't look up when Dan asked her if she was okay or when Ella came by trying to get her to go dancing with her at Lux. The only time she did look up was when a faint shadow was cast over her and her desk to see who it belonged to. Standing before her was the last person she thought she'd see nowadays.

Lucien.

Lucifer's son hadn't even crossed her mind within the madness of the past week, what he thought of her. She couldn't even discern the look on his face. His eyebrows looked angry, but that was pretty much their resting state. "Hey, Lucien," she greeted him. "Everything okay?"

[fangsforhire]

cheekypriest

It certainly wasn't the surprise that some might find it to be, able to sense when something wasn't quite human about someone, even if was sometimes a shot in the dark trying to figure out why. He could feel it rather than see it. Though finding the man fangs deep in someone's neck was more than enough to answer a lot of his previous questions. "Don't let me stop you, by all means..." James uttered calmly, though a brow flinched a little as he let out a deep sigh, partly praying that he'd be true to his word. A foolish gamble maybe, but the Brit deduced that if the guy had wanted him dead, he'd already be on the floor in a puddle of his own blood by now.

The priest received only a soft hum in response as he worked to seal the wound, using his inhuman abilities to heal. ( Once his victim was persuaded to return home and forget the shocking encounter,  Lucien wiped the blood from his lips, remembering his decorum. ) As he turned back to the priest, he at least appeared a little sheepish. Well that was one way for him to find out, no? He would have much preferred this inevitable conversation to happen by choice.

Stil, he wasn’t even tempted to erase his memory - fishing in his jacket for a cigarette, the relief of nicotine calling to him. James hadn’t seemed surprised. ( On the contrary, had he already somehow sensed what he was? ) Cigarette now between his lips, he sighed; wondering where to even start. Joking or not, he suspected he could actually attempt to exorcise him and he rather not have to visit Hell in such abrupt circumstances.

‘So what’s the plan, gorgeous? I could always go to the booth and confess my sins if that suits you?’

[fangsforhire]

@domuslux followed from | ℒ |

Coming out of the shadows was a rarity indeed, physique poised in one of the arched window sills, neither sitting nor standing. ( When they’d agreed to meet, he’d somewhat promised himself to be on his best behavior, their little misunderstanding all but forgotten and his head leaned back with a hum of agreement. ) Humans liked to believe they were the superior species and rejected anything that didn’t fit into their box. He’d lost count of the times he’d been at the mercy of men. Could one expect him not to be wary? Having to use his teeth all the time was tedious. ‘Yikes, that’s relatively cheap for wiseful advice.’ Tongue ran across his lips, humouring him as he dug into his wallet and stretched with ease to place a note amongst the pictures which had been requested. His kills were as clean as always, a credit to his character and professionalism. ( While he was more than happy to indulge and play with fire - when it mattered his demeanor was more than willing to shift. ) There was, however, a fine line between business and pleasure, and he just so happened to walk it, balancing recklessly between invisible lines. 

‘So, since I broke the ice so abruptly. Shall we get to the reason I’m here?’

[fangsforhire]

Even in the shadows, it was impossible to hide from someone like him. His many abilities and experience had taught him that research was crucial for gathering intel. Vengeance was not just a human instinct - it was bittersweet. HYDRA had made their bed, and now they could lie in it. If he had to, he would rip his way through each base. ( Some believed they were finished, completely fallen, but he wasn’t naïve enough to assume that. Their motto rang true. ) Unfortunate for them that he was immortal, wasn’t it? He'd gained a lead through unconventional means when he first uncovered the legend of The Hand. 

Another organisation that set his teeth on edge. What right did humans have to become so formidable? To believe themselves so superior that they could target and experiment on supernaturals? ( Whether or not, the Hand knew about HYDRA was unclear, but learning about them had triggered repressed memories, and he was certain HYDRA had known about them so he’d altered the playing field, so to speak. ) Now he wasn’t just after HYDRA, but after the Hand as well and he knew better than to not cover his tracks. He’d dug deep, leaving no trace of his investigations. He wasn’t as arrogant as to attract attention where organisations such as they were concerned, and he’d gotten a tip-off from a very unlikely source - Hell.

The demon who’d indulged him had been beyond helpful, and after arming himself with enough arsenal to blow whoever got in his way to kingdom come, entered the confines of the building. Almost instantly the stench of blood threatened to overpower him, and he didn’t need the screams to give away the signs of torture. ( Bastards. It was HYDRA all over again. The audacity to strap someone down, such as this - to leave them begging for a death that wouldn’t come. Well, the rage came as he entered the room, and all thoughts of using them to lure out his enemy or keeping a low profile abandoned him. ) Instead, his archangel blade didn’t hesitate to plunge into the one standing over the poor soul suffering, causing instant death, that couldn’t be undone. Shoving the body of whatever he’d killed aside, he made quick work of using his strength, speed and the weapons at his disposal to unfasten Matthew, disgust evident.

‘I would say good morning sunshine, but it’s night-time and you’re probably pretty out of it.’

His voice was a drawl that gave away little of what he felt from underneath the black mask he wore, ripping off tubes and ruining equipment. He made sure to leave a mess of their tools of trade and kept a listenout in case they were joined by more of them. His focus was on Matthew however, finger skimming scarred skin, healing the worst of his damage. ( Enough that he’d be able to get him out and not risk the sight of a murder scene, that wasn’t caused by him. ) Only once sure he was stable, did he offer a soft warning and haul him into his arms, not hesitating to leave the destruction behind them. No, instead his feet landed elsewhere, tightening the wards around his apartment and lowering him down slowly onto one of the beds - undoubtedly more comfortable than the table he’d been strapped to.

‘Don’t worry, mate. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.’

semi-plotted starter for @fangsforhire

The metal table was ice cold against his bare back, never warming under his own body heat despite how long he had been laying there. Strapped down to the point where he could not move in the slightest, Matthew had lost all sense of time entirely. All he had left was pain, blindly staring up at the ceiling while he silently prayed for death. Every nerve in his body felt as if it had been dragged over a cheese grater then set on fire, bruised blotted skin turning raw and tearing beneath the straps running across his neck, chest, hips, thighs, and ankles. The sound of his screams echoed in his ears. The feel of his flesh tearing under the blades. The chilling trickle of hot blood rolling down his skin. His senses were overwhelmed and drowning from the relentless harsh input while wires and tubes littered his arms and chest.

How many times had he prayed for a death that never came? For his suffering to finally end.

From the darkness came a voice and Matthew was sure he was hallucinating, most likely from the blood loss. Possibly hunger and thirst. Whatever he thought he heard, he knew it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The Hand was too good to be found by anyone who didn’t already know about them. They had gone undetected for hundreds of years according to Stick, there was no chance of him being found. Licking his dry lips with a slight wince, the deep cut in his lip stinging sharply as it reopened and blood dribbled down his cheek, his eyes falling shut with the hope this would finally be the moment he died.

[fangsforhire]

‘Excuse me?’

Well then. Should he interpret that as a compliment or something less flattering? The distinction was often elusive. He had an uncanny ability to draw attention, and despite his attempts to slip quietly into the background, sharp tongue frequently betrayed him, leading him into precarious situations. ( His presence had grown more pronounced than he preferred. Nowadays, whispers of his existence echoed through the supernatural circles, and it seemed nearly everyone had at least heard his name. ) This stranger had an aura of mystery about them. He could almost sense the power from their presence alone.

‘I don’t believe we’ve met Mr-?’

@fangsforhire ∣ ☀️

"It's certainly not every day that I find myself in the company of someone of your... constitution."

[fangsforhire]

‘I am?’

Huh. Despite his confusion about his own actions, he was determined to avoid any tension between them. He had made a promise to himself to stay on the straight and narrow. ( Wanda, a strong ally with a history of being victimised by HYDRA, proved to be an invaluable asset. ) Her power and skills made her someone not to be underestimated. Nah, it was better he play nice, wasn’t it? ‘Oh, well. Thanks. You’re amazing too.’

    *⁺ ‧͙ ˚ . *⋆ @fangsforhire asked for a one-liner ━━  accepting

❝you’re doing amazing sweetie.❞

[fangsforhire]

‘Oooh spooky. Really love the vibe.’ A shit-eating grin was given in his direction, eyebrow arched. Lucien possessed a rare kind of nerve, one that set him apart from those around him. ( Fear seldom touched him; he navigated the world with a sense of daring that few could comprehend. ) The number of places he deemed off-limits was astonishingly small, and the warnings that sent others scurrying in retreat stirred only a sense of challenge within him. 

This particular deity, elusive and formidable, had proved to be a difficult target to reach, but Lucien was far from naïve. ( He felt the currents of power coursing through him, a palpable force that spoke of his capabilities. ) He wasn’t just aware of the risks; he revelled in the thrill of confronting them head-on, fully grasping the magnitude of what he could accomplish. Respect was earned, however, no?

‘Cute. I’m hardly a naive little boy. I’m aware of more than you realise.’

@fangsforhire ∣ 🪐

"Few are ever able to reach me. Even those who try. Yet here you stand... entirely unaware."

[fangsforhire]

Sleepless nights had become a consistency he couldn’t escape, fatigue clinging to him like an inferno and yet the alternative? ( The nightmares? Well. ) He’d rather avoid those at all costs, having become obsessed over checking for signs of HYDRA throughout the world, flicking through news articles and methodically cleaning pristine weapons. 

It was true that these days he didn’t only have to consider his own safety, he had others to think about. As ever the protector, he was more than ready to put himself on the frontline, even while HYDRA was concerned. ( He’d learned his lesson about holding back with them - in allowing them to brainwash and imprison him. ) The damage they had done was evident, all around him. If it wasn’t Bucky struggling to settle, it was Valentin. Between the two of them, it was hard to let go, found once again in the shadows of the place they were sharing, attempting to read a dusted novel. ( Anything to distract himself, right? ) The sound of running water however provided just that, rising and padding into the kitchen after a few moments, already aware of the source. Bucky looked like he’d been tossing and turning again - no doubt reliving his past while deep in slumber. Well fuck.

‘Couldn’t sleep? Me neither, darling. Scoot. I’ll give you a massage and work out some of that tension.’

( @fangsforhire asked for Bucky )

Dreams of familiar corridors stretching into a maze was maybe his most common kind. Those corridors were always there, even if their location didn't matter. That was the sort of nightmare for that night, the sort where the setting could have been anywhere but those damned corridors were there.

That was what made him creep out of bed and into the kitchen; he needed to move around, needed to do something before he drowned in the memories, and so he grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water before almost chugging it in an attempt at swallowing down the nausea. It didn't help, though the chill did; it was something to focus on.

Getting another glass of cold water, he sat at the kitchen table and sighed out a deep breath, closing his eyes and tipping his head back in a determined attempt at relaxing.

[fangsforhire]

Sleepless nights were a consistency he couldn’t escape.

To alleviate his insomnia, Lucien often wandered the illuminated streets, immersing himself in the sights and scents of the bustling city. ( This nocturnal activity provided a welcomed alternative to the discomfort of tossing and turning in bed. ) On this particular night, his nocturnal excursion held a more pressing purpose—his dwindling blood supply demanded attention, and a persistent ache throbbing in his jaw. It had been some time since he last indulged in prowling and satisfying his primal need for nourishment.

Gone were the days when he could freely act on his impulses without drawing the watchful eyes of both Heaven and Hell. Every action now carried a weighty cost, and he had grown wary of inviting unwanted attention or confrontations. ( Despite the constraints imposed upon him, he remained an undeniable predator at his core, driven by the primal instinct to hunt. ) To evade any divine interference, he used the cover of approaching storms to move about inconspicuously, his movements too swift for the human eye to discern.

Though tonight his initial quest for sustenance was diverted, a compelling scent, unmistakably belonging to another supernatural being, prompted him to redirect his course toward the heart of the city. The distinct animalistic nature of the scent intrigued him, leaving him to wonder if it belonged to a werewolf or perhaps something else entirely. ( With an energizing rush of anticipation, he shamelessly undertook the pursuit, dismissing any expectation of compliance. ) After all, it was unreasonable to expect him to maintain virtuous behaviour at all times. However, the knowledge that if he could detect their scent, they could likely do the same did not deter him. Instead, it served to heighten the thrill of the chase as he perched above, using the roofs to his advantage and glanced down.

‘Pretty intriguing thing, aren’t you?’

A miserable evening it was shaping up to be, the choking humidity of that afternoon's sun carried over into the night. Looming dark clouds overhead did little to help the humidity, instead heralding a coming storm that tinged the air with a faint electrical scent.

Faint for a normal, human nose at least.

The dark figure stood under the waxed awning of some bar, leaned against the red brick front with one spurred boot perched up under him in a casual stance. A hand rolled cigarette perched in his mouth, strangely golden eyes peered over as a few very drunk patrons stumbled from the bar. This wasn't the most ideal place to scope out targets, but if the metallic, earthy twang in the air meant anything, Jain knew it was best to find some sort of shelter before the coming downpour.

So far tonight was looking to be a bust, once rain rolled in people were less likely to to be charitable for his business- whatever that may be. It would make hunting in the more urban environment just as difficult as well. Too early to just shift and hunt as a beast, there were still plenty out and about that made such a move needlessly ill-advised. For now, the handsome man in the boots and leather jacket was fishing in a dry pond.

Starter for @fangsforhire

[fangsforhire]

‘Wh-? Oh yeah.’

His attempt to show interest wasn't very convincing, but he had made a decision to indulge her by agreeing to listen to her practice for the upcoming event she was hosting. ( He felt it was the least he could do to show support. ) He gave her a nod to proceed and forced himself to sit up straight, offering a subtle smile. Caroline was a mystery, and being a vampire seemed to suit her perfectly. She appeared genuinely content with the person she had become, serving as an inspiration to many. He could only imagine what she must have been like when she was still human.

‘It’s not boring me per se; I’m just easily distracted, love.’

@fangsforhire didn't like for a starter :)

⸻⸻ "can you just pay attention to me fully for five minutes?" Caroline felt like she was talking to thin air when Lucien had stopped giving small 'mhms' and 'yeps' every so often. "I'm sorry if this is boring you, but I had no one else to practice with"

[fangsforhire]

‘Yeah? I understand that feeling completely.’

If anyone could truly empathise with the need for a break, it was him. He often felt an overwhelming pull to escape and start anew. Before the revelation that Lucifer was his father, he had lived the life of a nomad, never settling in one place for too long. ( His affinity for travel was not just about exploration, but also about maintaining a safe distance from others, as he had learned the hard way that forming attachments with humans often resulted in heartache. ) Even now, amidst like-minded individuals and immortals, he still grappled with moments of vulnerability. There were times when the weight of everything became too much, and he yearned for solitude.

‘Do you know why I built the Lakehouse? It's my retreat for times when I feel out of sorts. Would you like me to take you there?’

~ @fangsforhire || liked for a random generator starter || From Lucifer ~

"I just need to get out of here sometimes, you know?"

[fangsforhire]

They were few things which could bring him as much pride as his children. Lily and Louie were little miracles in their own right and to say he cherished them was an understatement. Despite never having had a childhood himself, he liked to think he had done his best to learn on the job for them. ( For no amount of books could demonstrate how bloody difficult it was to bring a child up, especially one that had a fraction of their abilities or intelligence. ) Both were a credit, a blessing and sure he hadn’t always got it right, but could anyone judge him for that? He’d lost Lily once, almost lost Louie. Of course it had awakened his protective instincts and permitted guilt to set in.

Now though, they were grown. Each had their own lives and were flourishing in them. They didn’t need their parents so much anymore, but as time passed between contact, he missed the relationship he’d had with his son. Louie was in a way a lot like him. Both were stubborn to a fault, independent and had a tendency to use humour to deal with difficult situations. ( Thankfully however Louie hadn’t allowed the darkness to consume him like Lucien had. He'd been saved from going down the wrong path, by his mothers compassion and Lucien’s own resolve. ) He also had his grandparents and an entire family unit, in the place of Mephistopheles and he was thankful everyday he’d allowed the angels into his life, because he knew how much they had watched over Louie after what had happened. It left him free to bond through other means. 

It wasn’t often he popped to the studio and caught him at work, but his father had mentioned in passing about his new album set for release, and he’d decided to head over to provide a chance to unwind, if it was required. ( Perhaps it was an excuse to go - it had been a while since they’d played together and what better way to spend a day off than visiting one of his children? ) A chuckle left his lips upon his son finally noticing him, raising a hand and standing behind the glass with a grin, not letting on that he had any idea what was happening - knowing better than to ruin the chance for him to share his news.

‘Hey kid, yeah if you have time? I was just passing and thought I’d see what you were up to.’

@fangsforhire requested a starter.

HE'D BEEN WORKING tirelessly in the studio for what had felt like centuries ( merely a month or so ) to get his new album completed and every track edited. Luckily, he was nearing the final stages of it all, jut a couple of songs needed a few last minute tweaks and some additions in the way of drum pad beats adding.

He was very much in his own world when the door to the studio opened. Briar was in the next room, recording her own music, so he knew that it was not her coming in. At first, he thought that it might be Sima, but then the familiar scent caught his nostrils and Louie's gaze lifted in time to see his father. Whilst it was not uncommon of him to come by, he'd not been expecting him and quickly paused the track that was playing so that nothing was spoiled ~ he'd wanted the music on this album to be a complete surprise. " Hi dad... You wanting an impromptu jam session? "

[fangsforhire]

His nerves were on fire, and despite it being impossible he’d almost convinced himself his palms were sweaty as he exited the car he’d chosen for the occasion, a sleek black Audi whose engine revved and gave him feel-good vibes. ( His attire was also black, consisting of a shirt, expensive suit jacket, slacks and polished louboutins, his father rubbing off on him. ) He’d visited him earlier and received the Morningstar once over; the pocket square sticking out, Lucifer’s addition. There had been a knowing twinkle in his eye, like he suspected he was about to wine and dine some poor bastard. Fucksake. He must be mad. There was no way he was good enough for Bucky. No way at all and yet, he hadn’t had the heart to cancel. After all a bit of normality is what they both deserved; what was the worst that could happen? Breathing accelerating, he grabbed the single red rose he’d purchased and faced the place in question, already sensing him inside. ( He wasn’t surprised he was early - he would have been too if he hadn’t been sat in his car trying to soothe his anxiety. ) Luckily he had parked somewhere inconspicuous, and after settling a glamour over the vehicle, he entered the establishment and flagged down the waitress.

‘Fancy seeing you here.’

Soft greeting was given as she showed him to the table, twirling the rose between his fingers before shyly offering it towards him. Oh hell, he felt like Valentin. Completely out of his depth, uncomfortable in his own skin. What did one even discuss on a date? ( Business was off the question - the trauma they’d undergone hardly dinner time conversation. ) Movies? Neither of them had really had time to catch up with the last century had they? Same with books then. In the end he chose to clear his throat and sit down, picking up the menu for something to do with his hands.

‘Have you already had a browse, darling or did you decide to wait for me? I’m assuming this place sells my go to- fresh steak?’

Continued from x

The place is starting to fill up, and the chatter of people drone on in the background. It's not so bad in the small booth that he'd managed to secure. He'd come early and had been sitting, nursing a beer on the table that was starting to get warm while he waited as the minutes passed, getting closer to the agreed upon time.

It's surprising to him that he's here at all. When he'd asked Lucien on a date, he expected to be rejected. Mostly because he thought what he was asking for wasn't something the other would be willing to give. But he's here. Stomach twisting into knots. Unsure how this evening will turn out.

@fangsforhire

[fangsforhire]

‘Me? No one’s holding you hostage, Moran.’

Outrage was brief and half-hearted, Sebastian by now used to his dramatic nature, yet in his opinion it was minimal compared to Jim's, and considering they spent the majority of their time trying to appease the criminal, he liked to think his sole presence was a welcome break. ( Not to mention it never took them long for their fleeting glances to turn into something more intense. A carnal pull to each other that was difficult to ignore. ) Moran was one of those rare people he felt comfortable around enough to be himself, the sparkle in his eyes genuine.

‘Twisted your arm have I? I see how it is. What’s Jim wanting this time anyway?’

~ @fangsforhire || BG3 Companion Banter Starters || 'Ready for another round?' ~

"You're a bad influence." Sebastian drained the last drop of his whiskey from his glass, letting it slip down his throat. Pushing the sleeve of his shirt up he checked the time before nodding, pushing his empty glass towards Lucien. "Yeah, go on then. Jim's not expecting me for another hour."

[fangsforhire]

It was like hot and cold, the difference between host and alter and he wasn’t yet used to witnessing it from the other side. ( The majority of his, these days chose to agree to keep the peace, though there were some who had evident opinions of their own, and disapproved of every little action he made. Quite like Marcus. ) Chuckling at the response from Q he allowed his shoulders to lift in a casual shrug. What did it matter to him what method they wielded? As long as they got the results.

‘Fine, you’re the Boss. Still not gonna apologise though.’

Biting him had been a low blow, an infuriating assault which had prompted a swift reflex. Oh how he disliked physical contact at the best of times. ( The guy was lucky he hadn’t been facing down the likes of Silver, there would have been nothing left of him. For the most part though, he could exercise self-control, and keep the others at bay. ) The fingerless remnants of what had once been a criminal just business to him. Speaking of. Fingers removed the secure binder on his person, handing it over with an air of professionality now.

‘It’s all in there. Thought I’d save you the paperwork.’

"I approve." Marcus decided with a smirk as he looked over the autopsy report before Q shuddered and gave his head a quick shake. "I-I don't approve! That was- I'll work on something that will replicate fingerprints so you don't have to do that again." He already had a prototype that worked for that kind of thing but it had been a while since he'd given it out for any field missions since fingerprint biometrics seemed to have mostly gone out of fashion. Apparently a very grim oversight.

Q set down the papers and started to fiddle with the hem of his jumper as though he couldn't settle the strange feeling in his hands. "W-what did you manage to get out of the secure area?" He asked.