#has been with him for DECADESSS

[shittybjtch]

im so desperate to read stories of character i love...but in which they arent perfectly good people with good intentions in mind

like CMOOOOON gimme narc hamster im BEGGINGGGGG i will maybe make my own content but the likelyhood of that happening is very slim AUGHHHHH i dont think my impression of him is 100% accurate, and its been a few years since ive read the novel but i really think i know a good general gist of his character

im just TIRED of the fanon characterization that got so popular aughhh

[sssardonian-ssserpent]

There was a small bit of silence as Angel stared at him, the dim lights of the room causing the spider’s eyes to glow a deep, burning pink, making his gaze all the more intense as they stare into his own, watching, calculating, careful. He did not move as Angel finally spoke, watching calmly as the man so brazenly swung his legs up onto the other side of the couch, shifting in his stance to properly lay down on his coils as if he were using them as pillows, the deep rich scent of strawberries, artificially sweet, to an almost sickening degree, starting to fill the air as thick red smoke poured free from that lit cigarette, making his tongue flicker free from his teeth, to taste that scent, all the while watching Angel’s expression, listening to the man speak.

The tip of his tail fidgets for a moment, stuck underneath Angel’s back, before it pops up against the spider’s side, idly pressing itself against that soft, thick fur, and Pentious smirks a touch. “Good to sssseee that you’re ssso cautiousss about this sort of thing. Caution meansss that you have a level head on your shouldersss. Means that you aren’t getting caught up in winning the game asss much as you are looking for the crackssss, and in a game ass risky as this…Well. Getting lossst in the euphoria of a potential victory is a death sentence.”

As the spider moved to hold the cigarette out to him, Pentious moves to take it, holding it betwixt two of his claws, still smirking a touch even as he moves to place the burning drug between his lips, slowly taking a soft, but slow pull. The smoke rushes between his lips and tingles on his tongue with it’s rich strawberry taste, has a way of burning in the depths of his throat that feels…satisfying, and as he pulls the cigarette away to softly let the deep red smoke spill between his fangs, he doesn’t once move to cough or splutter, his lungs taking the burn, the deep heavy burn and the rush of heat down his scales, as if it was as easy as breathing in fresh air. He offers the cigarette back to Angel, his smirk becoming a bit more calm now, and he lets out a brief chuckle. “I will admit, I was curious if you had any sort of sssspecific ways you may want to orchesssstrate their deathsss, but no, I am not so foolish as to think you would plan everything out for me. I do know that it isss possible that you have insssight into Valentino’s indussstry, no matter how small, and I, meanwhile, have been obtaining ssssteady amounts of information about Vox’ssss operations for decadesss now. I’m not saying that we go in gunssss blazing immediately, no no; both Vox and Val’s positionsss as Overlordsss combined have far more gunsss and weapons, not to mention, sssinnerss willing to usssse them, than the both of usss would ever be able to obtain on our own. If thisss is a war we want to win, we need to be able to obtain the proper power, not to mention, the proper armiesss needed to be able to even the playing field.”

He idly moves to rest both his hands atop Angel’s thighs, glancing toward the man with a devilish glean entering his smile, his teeth reflecting in the light of the smoke and making them almost appear red. “In other wordssss, Angel, we need to do ass the Romansss do, and ssssstart building up operationsss ourselves.”

@angel-fxced

If this whole thing turned out to be little more than a bust, Pentious was planning on burning down this entire damn club, with Angel Dust in it. It was the one thought that was echoing through his mind like a mantra, like a bell, as he sat there amongst the quiet silence of the rental room he had slithered into just a few minutes prior, a long cloak he had worn tossed over the hat rack by the door, one that he had worn in his best efforts to keep his face and with it, his identity, hidden from most of the party goers within the club as he snuck around past them and toward where his…scheduled appointment was waiting. Thankfully the bouncer waiting to guide him to his rented room didn’t seem to recognize him, and when he finally got the nerve to pick up the nearby phone located next to the couch he was currently resting on, there was a metal sign screwed into the coffee table, displaying in grand letters that secrecy and anonymity was a high priority at the establishment, and at no point was his call to be recorded, tampered with, or meant to display his identity in any fashion.

Some part of him wanted to believe the obvious lie that was staring back at him as he slowly dialed the provided number and began to “request” his chosen pleasure for the evening, but the rest of him knew damn well that Valentino, the slimy, impudent twat that he was, would take any opportunity to squeeze a few sorry suckers out of every penny they had, and blackmail via public slander with the proof of illicit prostitution racket recordings would no doubt be one of the easier ways for him to get the drop on someone. It was enough to make his scales itch with tension, as he muttered into the phone line, blood growing hot with agitation as he listened to the vulgar feminine voice on the other end whisper about “package deals” in low tones, and his hood refused to grow still as he made his final request, twitching and shivering ever so slightly, letting the ominous sound of rattling fill the room.

When the call was finally finished, it takes all his control to not swipe the phone off the table and let it crash to the floor out of disgust, rationalizing that it probably would be best not to break anything in the room, lest he need to pay for any of the damages, and it was with a snarl on his lips and a hiss growling within his throat that Pentious sat there, arms crossed over his chest with a sneer on his face, coils all but writhing themselves into a ball on the couch trying to keep themselves from touching the fine carpet floors underneath, skin crawling with the idea of all the germs and fluids that could’ve stained this place in the past. Valentino prided himself on having a clean reputation with even more spotless businesses, but Pentious knew that all he would need is a black light to expose all the filth crawling around the underbelly of it’s classy charm and high priced dignity. It was why he always found himself detesting the despicable moth to begin with; his methods of power and, dare he even say, “villainy”, if it could even be called that, were crass, were crude, slimey and deceitful, were as low and loathsome as parasites, invasive and brooding, digging in under the flesh to infest until it has it’s grip on your soul, all while the grotesque and the vile were covered up with charismatic grins and honeyed words of vice and sin.

It was the exact kind of scum that reminded him so much of the institutions and foundations up topside that he had once sworn to burn down and destroy, all those years ago, and while a small part of him almost admired the sheer skill at which Valentino hid the dark, swelling pustules of cruelty and avarice dwelling in his skin from sight, and how wielded his powers of high status and prestige as a sword to cut down his enemies with a ruthlessness only learned from the world of the mob, another part of him knew far too well that a good sword could smite any snake dwelling within the grass, if it knew where to swing. Best to keep out of sight, and hope one day he could rise up and strike down that loathsome little bug out from the skies and send him careening into the mud, where he belongs.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts ever so slightly by the sound of distant moaning, of the sound of loud, wild pleasure, accompanied by the sounds of what must’ve been a headboard knocking itself against a wall, and he found himself feeling a bit of a shiver sliding down his spine, even as he feels his cheeks growing hotter, one of his hands idly moving to start adjusting his bow tie in an effort to ignore the noises, his sneer becoming a bit more prominent even as a part of his mind perks up with interest at the sounds of hedonism occurring so close by. “Tch. You’d think they would bother with the concept of sssssound-proof wallsssss when they built this den of filth..” His tail flicks in distaste, and he looks away from the finely polished door that he had been staring toward, toward a wall where Valentino’s symbol, of a moth with heart patterns in it’s wings, were scattered all over it’s dark purple surface, the illustrations themselves coated in a lighter pink.

The room itself was coated in a dim light, courtesy of the lamp that rested on the same table as the phone, and the furniture decorating it’s surface consisted of many things, from a dresser that was no doubt loaded with all sorts of lingerie, a full length mirror mounted on the right side of the wall, a door to the side leading to a bathroom and a shower, a glass table sitting in front of the couch, upon which was a selection of various lube bottles and a box of finely packaged sex toys (that one he had closed to avoid looking at it), and off to the side of the couch, tucked into a corner was a rather large bed, decorated in the shape of a heart with rose petals on it’s surface. It all felt rather tacky, even garish, but Pentious had found it was the only room option he could have taken without feeling even more uncomfortable than he already was, the other’s consisting of rooms more along the lines of sex dungeons and medical facilities than anything feasible to his flustered nerves.

He crossed his arms tighter around his chest, trying to ignore the thoughts of all the indecent things he had seen when previewing the site, when the sound of footsteps began to grow over the distant din of sex from another far off room, and he feels his back straighten, his eyes narrow ever so slightly. He waited for a moment or two, saw the door knob turn, and as it finally swung open with a heavy creak, exposing the man he went through all this trouble to see, he lets his face shift into a proper glare, serious and grim, eyes glowing in the dim light of the room, hood moving to flare up to it’s full extensions, his tongue flickering out ever so slightly. He could smell perfume on him, sharp and tangy, like that of vanilla mixed with strawberries.

“…Come in, Angel. We have much to disssscuss.”