@wingeatersblog 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 ; ❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜ -Hawks, for Dabi
No, he didn't expect Hawks to find him here. He'd sat behind a dumpster in a back ally, his back pressed to the wall as he opened his bag of chips that he'd yoinked right off the shelf in the last convenience store he'd visited. BBQ chicken flavour. Simple but reliable. As he sat to eat, a stray cat approached him, a ragged, tatted-looking thing that it was with a sad, raspy meow.
He couldn't say he was really a fan of animals, even ones that might have resembled him if he looked hard enough, and so, at first, he'd tried to shoo it away by kicking his foot at it a few times. When that didn't work, he gave in, offering it one of his chips with the condition that it get lost after that, as if it could understand what he was saying as he told it this.
That's when Hawks arrived; his landing seemed to scare it as the cat took off in a hurry, and Dabi rolled his eyes, a hand that rested on his knee rising and falling at the wrist in a resigned gesture to the fact Hawks had accidentally scared the cat away even though he wasn't able to do that upon actually trying as he mustered an irritated answer.
❝ Whata're you stalking me now, hero ? ❞
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@fightaers ❤️'d for a starter for Fuyumi.
It's hard to believe it's been around 12 years since he last saw her, not counting that day on the battlefield when she followed Mom into the fray to help save his and their father's lives. Or maybe it wasn't that hard to believe at all, given the last time they'd seen one another, they were just hopeless little kids... And now, when she's standing here ... He can see she's an adult. A grown-up woman, though he couldn't say she looked less hopeless.
She's a teacher or something if he remembered right, based on the distant tabs he'd kept on everyone. Strange job. He always hated teachers when he was young, but then his sister had always been an enigma to him. He's surprised she'd come to see him. All alone, too. That may be why she looked so out of place.
Of course, he couldn't say he looked any better. Sitting here in his restraints and all his bandages from his ever 'healing' scars and the endless reconstructive surgeries that helped him to look even slightly normal again. Dad's pockets were always good for something. ❝ Hey, sis. Long time no see, huh ? ❞ He greets with a catlike grin pulling against his tight, scarred skin of his face.
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@hellshoard ❤️'d for a starter ! ( For Arabella maybe ? )
He felt the collusion with something ━ someone had walked into him as he stood here fiddling with this stupid camera. He should have been paying attention, but alas, he was too focused on the hunk of junk Vaggie had given him and, worse, the instructions that had come with it. Didn't she understand he was the RAIDO DEMON ? He had segments planned for his show ! Radio advertising was his specialty ! Was she really going to have him SQUANDER his talents like this ?
It was strange, the fact that the bump wasn't followed by a torrent of verbal abuse, giving him the chance to speak instead. ❝ My apologies, I should really be paying more attention to what I am doing-- ❞ He began, head and neck twisting around in a very unnatural manner to lock eyes on his company. They then gleamed and widened with interest and the realization that he knew this demon ━ well, kind of.
❝ Oh, it's you ! I remember you ! ❞ He announced gleefully, the static buzzing the mirth in his voice to life as he straightened his posture and leaned in for a closer look. ❝ You were at the butcher shop on Cess Avenue, yes ? Forgive me, but I don't believe I ever got your name. ❞ That likely because he was too busy eviscerating and eating the butcher.
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@amischiefofmuses ; The thing at last.
With the Hotel pulled back together and Mimzy long gone, along with Charlie's dead-beat father, Lucifer, a modicum of normalcy had been restored, giving a certain radio demon a little time to think about events that had transpired earlier in the day. One event in particular seemed to reoccur in his mind.
He found Husker precisely where he kept him. At the specially themed liquor station that he'd manifested the first day he arrived here, tending the bar as usual. A shadow bolted across the ground at a rapid pace, almost so quickly it might not have been seen if you weren't really looking for it, and all of a sudden, he was there, sitting right at the lonely bar in front of Husk, that big toothy demented grin fixed firmly to his face.
❝ Good evening, Husker ! Wonderful that things have finally quieted down around here, no ? ❞ He asked rhetorically, friendly, congenial, his usual faux self as he rested against the bench of the bar with a sigh of exaggerated exhaustion. ❝ What a day we've had. ❞
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@auntiecannibal 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 ; ❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜ - Rosie to Alastor ♡
Fix his hair ? His brow quirks slightly as she says this, but he stops moving as she asks. In fact, he's such a good sport about this he not only stops his fidgeting, but he leans down a little, his ears slipping down to the side to give her better access to the hair she claimed she needed to fix.
He wasn't sure if the pseudo mane, or rather, scruffy tuft on his head really was hair anymore or if it was more fur ━ or perhaps some strange hybrid in between. He didn't tend to think much about it nowadays, but if she said he needed to fix it, then sure, he was happy enough to oblige. ❝ Better ? ❞
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@videoaux 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 ; ❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜ - for Alastor!
Applying the word beautiful to anything here in hell almost felt wrong. It was a realm of festering, smouldering depravity, filthy streets lined with debris, grime, and gore, and the smell ━ oh, the wretched, fetid smell. But way up here, atop this building, touching the crimson skyline, technicolour lights, and stretching landscapes made up of shades of claret and onyx as far as the eye could see, one might be able to forget about that for just a moment.
Standing next to Vox, he rests himself on his microphone staff, admiring the same horizon as the other and, indeed, thinking that same thought for a moment. It was beautiful and tranquil up here ━ it was a nice change from the typical pace of things.
❝ Hm, I do suppose it is rather nice up here; so far away from the stench, the muck and the everyday grind of eternal damnation. Quite the pity such a peace just can't last. ❞ He mused wistfully, his head tilting to the side as he speaks, cheek resting in his hand.
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@alwaysthesitter : cont from here.
It's a question that stops him. He doesn't know why. Perhaps the absurdity of it. Did he really think this .... This that he had become ... Was hindered by mortality ? The hissing tendrils that crawled throughout his skin like maggots writhing amongst the decay of a corpse protest once more, as if urging him to ignore. But he doesn't. His line of thought persists even through the clouded whispering, buzzing in the back of his mind like flies.
He must have thought him human. It was a strange thing to ponder. The idea that anyone could look upon him now and think of a human being with human fears and limitations. It sits in his stomach, black and writhing like the rot that had taken him years ago. When he was a man ━ when he was a boy, even ━ a scared little boy, few seemed to think of him that way.
But he remembered one. She was kind. Not like the others. She knew what it was like to be different in her own way. To be outside of societies false sense of normalcy... And that was why... It seems whatever he was thinking was interrupted by another thought, colliding with the first one and ripping it to pieces like wolves set upon a grazing deer. His withered lips pulled into a smile with this, turning back to face the young man as he answered.
❝ I am 'dead.' You can thank Eleven for that. You can thank her ... For everything. ❞ No one could offer him humanity then, so why now ? Why now when he had no need of it
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