Withoutmonsterswebecomethem - Give Me One Good Reason.

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Of course, he wasn't privy to knowledge he missed during his long disappearance, which he was annoyingly being hounded about here and there since his mysterious return. So he wasn't so much pointing out to her that it was there. Though he was preemptively warning her, due to others having great observation and seeing the stains whilst they came to hound him about what happened to him. Why the stains were there, and where he had gone. All of which, he really didn't answer. Or lied about. As he was coming back to her, he noticed Alice stepping back out from his doorway.

Holding the package of sugar out to the other then he offered a smile to his neighbor, trying not to let his internal turmoil fog his overall masking. There was a lot he had to hide, and he couldn't let even the next-door neighbor see too much, “Dogs. Am I right? They find one stick in the yard and just have to maul it. But I can hope she won't run full force into the door again.” He sighs and decides this is a better lie than anything. If she didn't know what was going on, she didn't need to know. So he nodded at what Alice had to say and shook his head, “No. Keep it. I don't think I'll be using it any time soon. Better to be used than continue to sit on my shelf.” Shrugging at this, he thought, just for a moment, it was odd she even offered to bring it back? She was trying to poison him, he guessed. Well, he wasn't going to let her get the chance. He winces a bit, turning his head away at the invasive thought, and scrunched his nose, “Well, bye.” He closes the door on her and as he goes back into his house.

A moment later, he peeked out at her from the blinds to make sure she was leaving his property. Hopefully, before anyone thought too much about her presence on it. Once he was sure he was in the clear, he pulled back and tugged the curtain back into place to cut off the world again. Bringing his right hand up to his lip, he nibbled at his index fingernail, pacing as he muttered under his breath about what she was really there for. But took in a deep breath upon recognizing that she hadn't taken him up on his offer to come inside, so she couldn't have had any ill intentions, right? “Of course not. She's just some random neighbor who needed sugar, that's all.” He whispered to himself. Again, he checked through the blinds to see if she was gone.

I was just getting ready for work, actually. She nodded, thinking to herself that she didn't really believe him but that it also really didn't matter that much in the grand scheme of things. Sure, there were certainly times where Alice was terrible at not minding her own business but this wasn't one of them. Whatever Azazel was up to, it really didn't concern her. Honestly, she wasn't even sure she knew where he worked but why would she? They were simply friendly neighbors, saying hello to each other in passing. Really, she was the one that looked silly--who doesn't check if they have enough sugar before they fucking bake?

When he half-heartedly invited her in, she hesitated for a moment. She was sure he was harmless but she couldn't be fully certain. She did step through the threshold, but only a foot inside the house, her eyes glancing to the dark stains that he'd drawn attention to. She felt her stomach lurch a bit and while he was in the kitchen, she stepped back over the threshold, preferring to wait outside. She didn't think she wanted to know. When he came back, she put a sweet smile on her face. "Thank you so much, you're a life-saver! I'll bring the rest back once I'm done," she said, reaching out for the bag of sugar. Though, privately, she wasn't sure if she'd even do that.

At the question, Azazel just narrowed his eyes a bit. He didn't have time for this level of stupidity, right now. Maybe it was because he had been gone for such a long time, and had only recently been going back to drinking at places that weren't his house. But, still, he stood silently in front of the other. Thinking that, this, this was someone who would be a great reason for why he hated listening to people talk, “Yes.” Azazel finally answered to having the 'usual'. His eye contact maintained on the other's own gaze, intense, as if he might be challenging the other to say something else just as abysmally stupid as what was just said. Azazel could only imagine it wouldn't take long, and he was right. Because, as Cyrek continued, he could only imagine at this point, just to annoy him, he stood quiet. Listening to what the other said, almost against his will. Tapping his fingers tips on his hands against the surface of the bar, he dropped his head down, sucking in a breath, “No? And, I don't fucking care right now.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. Lifting his head back up, he put on a grin, his head tilting slightly. Blinking, he continued, “They should put you on the case. We'll have it solved a lot sooner, I'm sure.” Maybe he should have toned it down, he told himself. He was simply just on edge, for a multitude of reasons, and Cyrek's yapping, considering their history, wasn't helping level off that edge he was on, “Mmm.” That was all he could initially offer to Cyrek, bringing up the month's specials, suddenly feeling exhausted. Inhaling, he glanced up, considering some thoughts before suddenly turning his head, then looked back to the other just as quickly. Azazel looked at the sheet that was now on the countertop and frowned, “I, hate, all of these.” He commented, unkindly, expressionless. Then placed his left hand on the sheet and pushed it back toward Cyrek. Only to bring his left hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Sure, okay. Okay. Thank you. Just, give me the usual, the hardest stuff you have. None of that crap you're peddling on that sheet. I need something that would let me breathe fire, or that could run a car.”

@boneyardstarters at the mean-eyed cat bar

After giving a PTA mom a covert look of judgment for ordering a Bloody Mary, of everything on the menu of specials, and scraping some asshole's tip in change off one of the booths and side-eyeing the coins to count them rather than look directly into the ugly mug of old George Washington, Cyrek was ready to give his attention to a regular at the bar who wasn't bitching and moaning into his deaf ear. "The usual, or you want somethin' else?" A pair of mismatched eyes hovered over their shoulder to stare at the newscasting of the latest about a victim with no blood and guts, and Vegas' finest doing really fuck-all beyond spinning their heads. "You hear the news? Bet they got no idea who it is this time, either. You'd think they would've pinned down a frequent spot and staked it out or whatever." As if the MC needed the potential for a detective to breathe down their neck more than one already was, but he digressed; small talk about local happenings keyed him up to where they should avoid, and the rumors circulating around. "I got this month's specials out now, too." Reaching under the bar to slap down a laminated sheet for some Boozy Bunny or carrot juice-infused cocktails, the latter of which reminded him of when he'd pureed the vegetable into baby food with a pot and a processor. "Unless someone gets mowed down by a guy in a bunny suit next and we gotta put those on hold, too."

Hearing the little voice, Azazel paused in his stride, turning his head, he looked down, cold brown eyes staring down intensely at the small child as she spoke up to him, wondering why she was out here at a place like this, alone. Instantly, that coldness melted as he was reminded of his own son, of similar age, he supposed, to this little girl. He glances away then, playfully, “Oh I just might!” Expressively, he brought a hand to his chin, his index, and thumb forming into a check mark-like form under it, “Well Marceline, as an artist myself, how could I say 'no' to such a polite request?” Bringing his free, left hand, to his hip, he moved his right hand from his face, only to stop playing the moment Lyonet came stumbling out.

His coldness returned as the girl's mother came out, “It was nothing. She wasn't bothering me.” He replied to the girl's mother, leaning his hip more into his left hand, slouching slightly as he huffed out a slightly amused breath as Lyonet called the little girl a custodian, “Oh.” Azazel mumbled. After Lyonet told him it was just a joke, he quirked an eyebrow, “Couldn't tell.” He remarked with the smallest trace of a sarcastic tone in his voice. Azazel turned his head away, staring elsewhere for the moment as the other went on, “Alright, then, what can you help me with while you're stuck in business limbo?” He asked before looking back to Lyonet once again, before pausing to think for a moment, “Not really much for community service, actually.”

But, letting out a breath, he realized he needed to distract himself, anyway. Staring at Lyonet, he knocked his head toward her, prompting her a bit with a, “What kind of stuff are you guys still needing help with?”

@boneyardstarters lyonet + ??? : april 10, skratch records @ mid-morning cap : ∞

mix-ups with mars' school schedule typically didn't result in this kind of catastrophe. alas, there lyonet was, harboring her seven year old on the front steps of her workplace, all because she had neglected to remember it was a fucking teacher work day. she had resumed her pesky habit of inhaling snow every weekend, and prior to that she was relatively adept at arranging comfortable boarding for her daughter. however, that was before she swore reina to secrecy upon her relapse being unveiled and very callously reminded the kitchen witch exactly how fortunate she was to be entrusted with mars' care: 'at least i still have custody of my kid' may or may not have been uttered; which, of course, was enough guilt that would stick with reina for the remainder of her natural life. digressing, it was far too late in the day for lyonet to unload mars unto her older sister, so, the little girl was now a temporary employee of skratch records. at least, the bare bones of it. while lyonet idled inside and hid from the major renovations, mars manned the front curb. it didn't occur to lyonet that her very outspoken child would attempt contact with a wandering stranger until she heard her daughter's squeaky little voice say: hi, i'm marceline! but everyone calls me mars, or marcie, or mar. we're not open yet. do you want to help paint? quickly, lyonet stumbled off the step stool she was on while clumsily painting and scrambled out front, converse skidding on the concrete. "alright, miss mars," she cleared her throat loudly as she plucked her daughter up off the ground. "sorry about that. she's just our custodian," she joked halfheartedly. "that was a joke. kind of. can we help ya with something? we're, uh, not quite off the ground yet, but... we've got fresh lemonade if you wanna help out."

Reminder: you can't kill them in any way that matters.

Narrowing his eyes on the other as she excused her waking him up, Azazel clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and then closed his eyes again, adjusting his head on his backpack as he did. Not going back to sleep, that was done with now. Though the sight of seeing someone adorned with cat ears, drawn on whiskers, and a bit of red on her lip was, in thought, amusing, he would tell himself. But as she went on, questioning about vampires, his eyes shot back open.

Sitting up then, he looked at her, then, “You've got red on you.” It was what he said at first before turning his head away, squinting out into the crowd. Lifting his left hand up, he unhooked the sunglasses hanging off his shirt and deftly moved to put them on as he put some time between his comment before answering the vampire question. Azazel pressed the middle finger of his right hand against the nose piece of the glasses, then leaned back in his seat, “I guess, maybe, for you. That it might be. I'm not so sure, for me. Maybe I'm being self-destructive.”

He grinned, then, turning his head back toward her, now ready to reply to what she said about blood suckers, generally vampires. Despite the fact that his skin crawled, he knew they weren't real. But there was something, something swarming inside him, denying this belief in him. Azazel then looked up and, as casually as he was sitting, he spoke, “Vampires aren't real. So unless a big fucking mosquito is making it's rounds in this crowd, or probably a vampire bat-” Pausing, he knocked is head to one side. Though vampire bats weren't technically known to actually suck blood, if he were remembering his studies correctly, “Most I gotta fear there is a bad case of rabies, though, not blood loss.”

WHILE THE ONGOING EVENT HAD CERTAINLY CAUGHT HER INTEREST as she couldn't recall the French countryside she grew up on ever holding one that seemed comparable to a mid-spring horror fest, Simone was partially annoyed that she was forced to wander through crowds that her uppity social standing usually had her avoiding as the places she frequented happened to be expensive just to stand in most of the time. Her clients were not the type to plan an entire trip to Vegas for an event that felt partially reminiscent of Halloween, thus, she had no real reason to peruse around except for her own curiosity as the foreign born had clearly never once celebrated the spooky holiday herself as a child. The simple cat ears on her head and whiskers drawn on to her face atop rosy blush was not melting under the Vegas sun thanks to expensive makeup it was etched on with, but the same sadly couldn't be said for the cookie of a fanged mouth, as the red icing that represented blood was threatening to melt off and onto her hands, much to the travel agent's dismay as she rushed to take a seat on a bench and pull some tissues out of her bag. "Ah, then I do not need to apologize for waking you if you were only resting. I would think it impossible to fall asleep with everything appearing so fantasmagorique. You are not fearful of those that suck blood?" A smile crossed her face, as if amused with her own question.

Every single time

Hence my circle so small

being a GM is really fun because sometimes you can make your players go through some really traumatic Evangelion bullshit, but other times you can force them to go bowling for no reason