Withoutmonsterswebecomethem - Give Me One Good Reason.

More awake, he was hearing the way this stranger spoke more clearly. Raising his eyebrows as he more appropriately placed it, even in the awkward way the other had said things, he stuck his tongue into his upper lip slightly, thinking. Turning his head away, his nose curled, and he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth gently next. French. Great.

Though he could suppose it had nothing to do with that at all, not even remotely. But it was more amusing to him - No. He had to be serious. He was a grown man, his mind had to think about serious stuff. Business stuff. Stocks. Writing Checks. Doing taxes! WORK!! He couldn't be silly. That's what the medicine was supposed to help him grow out of, growing up. Closing his right hand into a fist, he was thankful he knew what his 'problem' was, in the end. ADHD. Not that most around him understood growing up. Forcing him to rewrite his code.

“Ah.” At her question, he was pulled from whatever train of thought he was in at the moment to remain stoic, and not give in to the amusement that tempted him in these thoughts. Turning his head, scrunched his face a bit, “Yeah. Sure. I think so?” He stared toward the rest, “The dye they use could still be pretty nasty for the fabric, though.” Not that he would know. Azazel's jaw tightened a moment as she went on. It sounded like she was spoiled. His mother wouldn't have been so inclined to just immediately replace things that got ruined, if she ever desired to or not, he and his siblings just had to live with it. Which, he supposed, was probably why he took care of his clothing, “I hope she doesn't.” He whispered inaudibly under his breath.

Though his icy-ness thawed somewhat at Simone's next comment. Closing his eyes, his mind flashed back to when he fell from a significantly high branch back at his childhood home. Everything went black after a small moment of pain. Then, waking up to his mother staring at him, tears of joy brimming in her eyes as she moved to cuddle him- Azazel let out a breath, opening his eyes and looking toward Simone, “Let them look. I'm not their concern.” Shrugging then. Though it did not escape his mind to wonder that, if anyone were watching him sleep, it would be odd. Odd enough to be concerned by it, but not scared. Or, perhaps, scared, and annoyed to the point he might act out badly about it.

But that was just the exhaustion talking, bringing his left hand up, he ran it over his head, annoyed by how short his hair suddenly was lately. Reminding him of things he just wanted to forget. Entirely. Moving his hand away from his head, he laughs under his breath at her comment, “Vineyards.” He repeated, taking note, assuming she may have done something involving one, “They can get pretty nasty, especially with the shit they can transfer these days.” Especially here lately, people were quite terrified of the bugs. But Azazel enjoyed bugs, so he wasn't too put off.

At the comment of his either being fearless or stupid, his right eyebrow twitched as he remembered instances of people calling him stupid, or worse. Till he became a great way to cheat on homework, of course, for a price, “Maybe I'm too confident.” He grinned, brushing the anger off, it was silly to be angry over such an innocent assumption. It wasn't that this stranger knew what was attached to that word, for him. Watching Simone for the moment, he looked toward her offering, then, reaching out, he took it gently from her, inspecting the piece, “Besides, life's not exciting without a bit of stupid in it, you know? Sometimes, you just have to be stupid, to learn-” Tossing the offered piece into his mouth, he chews.

Following her gaze as he chewed, to the other attendants at the events, he makes a face. Though he was sure that was what most people would fear, being robbed, harmed, normal stuff. Things humans did. But humans were just as much monsters as anything the ones they were dressing up as, now, here on these fairgrounds. He swallowed, then nodded his head, “Anyone could be a monster. Anyone here is capable of doing anything more than robbing you of blood. And that's probably not even the worst someone here could be capable of doing-”

Azazel's gaze glazed over for a moment, almost as if he were lost in a memory. But none come into his mind, only a feeling of dread, of something lost. Pain. Emotional distress. Blinking it away, he forced on a smile, “But it's too early for the real monsters who would do that, or anything worse, to be out. Just make sure you're home before the streetlights come on.”

IF HER (UNWILLING?) COMPANION WAS ANNOYED WITH HER intrusion, it went unnoticed by Simone, who had never been one that was very keen on paying close attention to the comfortability of others around her. She never went out of her way to disturb others, that would only be cruel, but she also didn't spend much of her mind on the ease of others, either, a characteristic that had been instilled upon her by two doting parents who taught her that the world revolved around her herself rather than the sun. As a bit of bright red icing dripped from her hand to her skirt, her lips turned down and a sigh heaved from her mouth at their accurate commentary. "It is good that it is only made of sugar, correct?" It was a poorly phrased, and made, joke at the vampires rumored to be lurking around that the French one made no waste of effort to poke fun at, but the minor jest displayed on her face was quickly replaced back with disdain. "I hope my mother can get me another skirt like this." As much as she adored her designer clothes, it was the ones gifted by her mother that she cherished the most and the one she currently adorned was of that group. "You could wake to someone staring at you. That could be scarier than many other, no?" Though, he was clearly not wrong about it being impossible for her to fall asleep in such a situation; she was practically the princess that could have slumber disturbed by a simple pea, the way she chose to sleep in complete darkness with only a white noise machine. Taking a bite of the cookie, her eyebrows scrunched with interest at the passionate opinion, mostly as she didn't have much of one herself. "Mosquitos may be just as scary. They were no good on the vineyards." Breaking off a piece of the generously sized cookie, she offered a bloody tooth, that was far from the chunk she had bitten out of, to the other, almost as an apology for the interrupted nap. "You sound quite fearless...or stupide." Her eyes trailed to some of those in the crowd dressed as the exact mythical creature. "Not just of those. I would fear someone would rob me of more than blood."

what will azazel do... if they're coughing up blood out of the blue?

“Probably stop eating the shards of glass or poison I've suddenly been 'assassinated' with, I guess? I thought that waffle was bitter and too crunchy. I knew I should have just cooked for myself, but it's so agonizing. Worth it.”

In Memoriam- Globus

Eram quod es, eris quod sum Memoria in aeterna Pulvis et umbra sumus, redivivus

I was what you are, you will be what I am In everlasting remembrance We are dust and shadow, come back to life

what will azazel do… if they discovered a dead body?

“Take a look over it. It could just be a drunk guy, you never know. Then I would make sure if I know them are or not. But ultimately, since I'm discovering the dead body, I'd just manipulate someone to report it to the police from a payphone and make it someone else's problem. Or just let someone else discover it. Either of those can easily disassociate and distance me from the entire thing. Because dead bodies are gross and I don't like them, which, I imagine, is the case for most people. But ultimately, it would be really cool not to be caught being around dead bodies and cops. You never know who could be watching, trying to pin some shit on you. But-maybe that's what's happening, it's a set up… I hate this planet.” Then he'd probably orchestrate some elaborate scheme that gets whoever set him up to discover that dead body, whether that's the truth or not, of the situation, killed, or, more likely, caught by police or something, themself.

AVAN JOGIA as Johnny Johnny & Clyde (2023)

Having not been asleep for long, if much at all, the moment had passed him by with the voices nearby. Moving to sit up on the bench, Azazel leans back against it, sliding down more to get a little more comfortable. Yawning then, he brought a hand up before moving to stretch out a bit, raising his arms over his head and holding them as he stretched his spine a little. Then, dropping his arms back to his sides, he lifted his left hand to unhook his sunglasses from his shirt, which hung by one of the temples at the hinge. He places them on his face, covering his eyes, and turned his head toward Willow, then the child they were sitting next to, for a moment. Before looking again back to Willow, a grin formed over his lips, “Wasn't much of one, to be honest.” He replied, the grin gone in a second, before he looked away again.

At Willows' further comment, he nodded, not saying anything for a long moment before replying with a, “Yeah, but I'm not in those places, I'm here. Shopping, I guess.” Moving to grab the backpack he brought with him, he brought it closer to him, looking around the crowds of people that continued to flow through the afternoon from booth to booth. An uneasy feeling washing over him, his skin began to feel a little prickly, turning his head, he faced Willow once more, “Having a prosperous day shopping? Enjoying the spooky event?” He asked, again looking between the two who sat near him, before looking away again. He could have sworn someone was watching him. Somewhere.

what more could a socialite ask for? the usual glitz of las vegas was replaced by something darker, stranger, and entirely more theatrical. the streets shimmered with a strange kind of magic, part carnival, part nightmare; costumed strangers mingling in the crowd, lines growing at the vendor booths as people were eager to get their hands on spooky sweets or odd little treasures. and while willow loved the noise and the novelty, nothing compared to meadow’s joy. sweet, wide-eyed meadow, practically vibrating with excitement as she looked upon the chaos with the kind of wonder only children possessed. her laughter bubbled up every time a monster waved at her, or someone dressed in a tacky vampire costume jumped out at someone else; let the ghouls and goblins roam — so long as meadow was enchanted, it was perfect. letting go of the little girl’s hand as she hopped up onto the bench to eat her spider candies, willow tucked a few loose strands of pink behind her ear, not concerned with the other who’d taken up the empty space beside them, until— “are they sleeping?” meadow asked. “hm. looks like it,” willow answered. oh! not anymore, it seemed. “don’t mind us, we’re just crashing your snoozefest a little,” she quirked a brow at the other, more curious than anything else. “there are better places to sleep, y’know.”