(no subject)

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

He likes the vantage point by the observation window. It's good for...observing. The bar, not the destruction of the universe.

There's only so much of that he can do before he gets bored, of course. Relishes interaction, this man.




[OOC: As always, human pups and/or those likely to be influenced by Satan, better to ping on writetolive247 before tagging or anything could occur. If your pup is not likely to be affected or is more powerful, have at! :D]

Comments

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Nice view, isn't it?" asks the man with an orange-mottled cat.

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'The bar? Yes, it is.'

The man has his back to the observation window. He surveys the room from behind dark glasses and doesn't seem to glance at the one who spoke. He does, however, point directly at the cat.

'That's yours?'

The accent is Irish.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

And Gorlim's is distinctly Scottish.

He's not from anywhere NEAR Scotland.

"Aye, she's mine. Ailbhe, this one."

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Pretty.'

Satan doesn't much like cats. There's no sound whatsoever as he reaches out and into the small cat mind, invading her head with the essence of what he is. And smiles, lightly, because he knows the effect it tends to have on animals.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim yelps as Ailbhe digs her claws into his arm, leaps, and runs like wildfire, howling mad murder. She leaves a few good cuts in his arm, his sleeve shredded.

"Shite. I didn't know a cat cound do that!" He holds his arm, hissing. "The hell was that about?"

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Who knows why cats do anything?'

He's smoking suddenly, though there was no movement to reach for a cigarette and light it.

'They are altogether too arrogant for my liking.'

He's still not looking at this man although behind those glasses, it's kind of hard to tell.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim presses his shredded sleeve against the cuts, figuring the thing's already ruined, no reason not to ruin it MORE.

"That's ones sweet though. Usually. She's never done that before. Although they say animals can feel when they're not liked..." A bit strong a reaction for dislike, he thinks, but so it goes. "Who are you, then? Haven't seen you about..."

[song_tra_bong]

There is someone observing the destruction of the universe though. After a moment, she turns away from the window and notices an unfamiliar face.

"Evenin'," Mary Anne says. "Good night for people watching?"

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Isn't it always?'

He doesn't turn to look at her.

'More interesting than the stars.'

[song_tra_bong]

She shrugs. "Depends on what the stars are doing. And the people."

She doesn't really wonder how he knew what she was looking at. She's been trained to observe without a direct line of sight; it doesn't surprise her that others are able to.

"New around here?"

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'I'm not new anywhere.'

There's a cigarette in his hand suddenly. And he smiles to himself, because it's what people are doing to each other in their heads that interests him. The stars explode in the same way every night, here.

'Drink?'

[song_tra_bong]

"My mistake."

She takes a seat, propping her feet up on a vacant chair.

"Sure. What're you having?"

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

He takes a glance at her mind and a tequila materialises in front of her.

'There you go Mary Anne.'

His attention is still on the room.

[steak-man.livejournal.com]

Cypher, sitting at a table by himself with a martini and a cigarette, watches Satan, cheek in the palm of his hand.

Maybe he's surprised to see him here again. Maybe not.

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

Satan watches right back. Then that voice, right by Cypher's ear again.

'Come over. I want to talk to you.'

[steak-man.livejournal.com]

Well, that's what he gets for staring.

He doesn't look entirely happy about the prospect, but nonetheless he gets to his feet, taking his accoutrements with him, and moves to sit near ol' Belial.

"Yeah?"

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Sit down.'

He watches him a moment more, then the martini refills.

'How's life Cypher? Tell me about it.'

[steak-man.livejournal.com]

He does so. The martini filling helps, and he takes a sip.

Cypher tilts his head at him. He may be, perhaps, slightly more guarded than last time.

"Glad that fuckin' Christmas seems to be over." A bit of a smirk. "Bet you are too, eh?"

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Do you? Why?'

He shows no expression.

'You're obviously a gambling man. But you should be careful what you say.' He smirks, just slightly. 'Friend of yours got into trouble a few days ago for not watching his mouth.'

[http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/]

There is blood on the table.

The Frost is there.

There was blood on the table.

No longer. Nothing overt has changed. Merely a dip in temperature, and a slight change in the liquid. It's sharpening, reflecting light, frozen and reflecting the light of the destruction of the Universe as they know it.

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

Satan is watching. He smiles and looks at the droplets but doesn't speak. Jack is not there, after all.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/]

Sitting right across from him.

Also watching the droplets.

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Aren't they though?' He murmurs it quietly. 'Spilt from a man by his own hand, just to hear me speak.'

He likes that.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/]

"Freely given, then?"

He gestures, and the ice touches the blood once more, freezing 'round the edges of where it's spilled.

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Be my guest.' He gestures vaguely and is suddenly smoking again. 'Not freely. He wanted something and that was the cost. Nothing for nothing, Jack.'