Even Without Her Having Said A Fucking Word To Him, He Knew She Was 'on One' Today. The Cleaner Always

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."

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What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

He is often wearing more elegant and/or practical outfits. This is frequently his daily attire, predominantly suits, but anything along those lines tends to be what he's often seen to be wearing, no matter what. Typically appearing in respectable outfits, more than in filthy or excessively expensive, or fancy outfits. Azazel defaults to outfits of this style because he likes to look presentable, and perhaps even at times blend into his surroundings. He will certainly change what he wears, but keep within the same style of what he's into wearing. Due to the weather becoming hotter, he's wearing more loose and showy outfits. Generally, in cool, wintery, or lighter colors, regardless of temperature conditions. He has been known to also dress in grunge, gothic, and biker aesthetic styles, especially when he was younger. But these days he sticks mostly to suits when working, or simpler outfits on his days off. Examples.

I am a human being, capable of doing terrible things.

i love them

What did your muse want to be when they were a child? Would their child self be happy with what they are now?

Azazel has always wished to be in a career that allows him to learn and keep learning. He had always enjoyed finding out and picking up new things. New hobbies, new skills, new information. He was often a consummate reader. But also would go out and experiment on some of those things he would learn. So he technically had no name for what he wanted to be as a child, other than 'scientist', and that dream continued throughout his life into adulthood, where he has a professional career in the sciences, primarily in biotech. Moonlighted in his advisory position for the Vitelli's. His child self would probably be very amused by how everything turned out. Thinking that being in a 'mafia' and working as a scientist would be 'the best' way his life could have turned out. Seeing as most of his childself thinks of gangster related things in the more fictionalized settings, and not the serious, life-threatening, deadly nightmare it actually can be. Also, he would be so happy about any lean into the supernatural rumors surrounding his older self. So, child Azazel would be completely ecstatic to present Azazel's life, with a rose-tinted glasses idea of it.

Two: Is there a problem?

Eight: Oh, nothing Shakespeare couldn’t turn into a really good play.

Well… I got 'em out. We were all the way deep into the jungle where I thought it was gonna be safe. That's when the rain started. I thought it was water. It turned out to be blood. Hot, thick blood. It was coming down. It was choking us. We were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind.