Waiting Patiently For The Other To Show Up, He Knew It Might Take A Moment Or So, Given Which Neighbor

Sucking candied goo out of a tube, Azazel stared from behind his sunglasses. Even though the sun had gone down by now, he still kept them covering his eyes. His eyes were not in much pain at the moment, but they were pink from irritation. He didn't want to be asked if he was high, or something like that. He walked down the line of booths, now closed or closing, more or less. He would have to say this night was one of the strangest nights he had had in some time. He didn't like it, all those alarm bells he was ignoring were now flaringly loud in his mind. Turning his head as a woman approached him, he jerked his body away from their hands as they moved too close for comfort toward him.

Staring the woman up and down, he frowned. Then glanced at the booth she must have come rushing from. Quirking an eyebrow at what she was saying, he tilted his head a little bit, “A book?” Pulling the tube from his mouth, which he had been holding there awkwardly, he licked out the little dollop of goo that had been squeezed out before closing it up as he slipped it into his coat pocket. As the woman continued talking, he nodded his head. Of course, he did think she seemed a little off. But he had no room to talk. So he kept his mouth shut. Biting on his bottom lip, Azazel narrowed his eyes in thought, “Them?-Who are you trying to understand?” He turned his head as if 'them' might show up. But then he figured it was a bit silly to think such a thing. It was probably something completely normal, like a Spanish dictionary. He hated taking Spanish. Clearing his throat then he lifted his head a bit at the offer for payment, “Whoa whoa. I don- No, I don't want money-idontevenknowwhatyouretalkingabout-” He muttered at the end, sucking on his teeth and taking in a breath.

Azazel cleared his throat again, raising his hands and making calming motions with them, “Hey, take a breath, alright. Where's this book you need for…them?” Coins? He noted, then shrugged it off for the moment, “I'll cover it. No need to pay me back.” Whatever would make her happy, she seemed desperate, so he wasn't feeling inclined to take advantage of her. Especially with the knowledge that she was struggling to buy a book, now. Azazel offered a nervous smile, “After you?”

OPEN: weekend of horrors, outside a mystery booth that's still open for an unknown reason.

april 21st after 8pm / @boneyardstarters

the woman's eyes widened as she saw the other passing by. "oh- could you help me?" emmeline widened her eyes and held out her hands. "it's just- there's this book... over in there-" she pointed back to the mysterious booth still open for reasons not explained. although they rejected her offer, she felt like it was calling to her to find out more. she was battling with herself because this was how it had all started - vampires - vampires where there wasn't any vampires in sight.. okay... perhaps she'd actually seen one as a child or just dreamed about it but she was here, had seen that book and nothing else mattered. emmeline seemed erratic, yes, but she never meant any harm. "this book... it'll help me understand them..." don't say they're real, emmeline, the whisper in her head told her. there was no doubt that she'd been right about this but also, a broken clock is right two times a day. "i will pay you back! i don't have the coins right now but i can get them." it was bordering on dangerous territory."

Biting his lips for a moment, he nodded, “I think so. You know you're supposed to replace those every couple of years. How many years has that been in your house?- I had a pillow as a kid that once had the indent in the shape of my head, and that was all I needed.” He could say that his parents didn't exactly go out of their way to replace such things every couple of years. Though he loved that pillow, a sigh left him. Because he still felt sad that he had so far not been able to find another pillow as comfortable, even if most of the stuffing was pushed to the sides. It fit his head perfectly in the indent and was the only pillow he had needed.

“Does it?” Raising an eyebrow, he glanced to one side, thinking about it. He wasn't much of a morning person, most days. Especially here lately. Though most moments of the day were met with utter exhaustion, he could say he wasn't a person currently meant for any part of the day. At the Care Bear comment, he makes himself laugh. Not because he didn't find any amusement in the comment, he could agree with it, even. But the emotion just wasn't there in earnest, “Really?! Bedtime Bear? Hm. I'll take it.” Nodding his head, he continued to walk with Andrea toward the coffee stand. Glancing here and there at people they passed by, “So, then what kind of Care Bear could you be?”

As Andrea spoke about the store, he nodded along, listening, then narrowed his eyes a bit, looking ahead, “Sure.” He offered a grin, more in comfort toward his friend. Rather than the hopes that the store was going to be bustling. But he was just being negative. Bringing his left hand up to his head, a sudden wave of nausea hit him, and he stumbled a bit. But just as quickly as it had come, he forced it back down, running his hand over his head, playing it off as if it were nothing at all. Swallowing, his throat felt thick, scanning, he had to get out away for a moment. The thin layer of sweat had suddenly come to be more persistent, droplets forming and running down his neck, “Ah-huh- I hope- so too. Yeah.” If he could look any more pale, he would be. Standing at the coffee station, he felt even worse than he did just a few seconds earlier. The dizziness and sick feeling became almost too unbearable at this point to continue to ignore, and be forced down.

“-be right back-” Azazel hurriedly said as he turned and rushed off. Stumbling slightly and bumping into a few people in the crowd, the motion not at all helping his sudden needs. Finally making his way to a building with a proper bathroom in it, he slammed the door shut as the nausea he was feeling piqued.

"Oh I do, I think that it's more comfortable about my own bed, maybe that's a sign for me to get a new bed or something." She couldn't help but chuckle as the two of them began to make their way to grab some coffee. While she normally drank tea, she drank coffee to give her a boost of energy which she kind of needed. "Sounds like it's more important than breakfast to you." She smirked. "If you were a Care Bear you would be Bedtime Bear." She added with a playful grin.

"Yeah I mean I think any store will take it's time getting up off the ground, but I know that it will be up and running in no time. I'll probably be more in the back at times, but I'll try and get out and help the customers when I can." She always had a positive outlook on everything, plus, it was better than her old job, she had more freedom and was doing something that she loved. "Well let's hope that the slump goes away, nothing worse than a slump. Been in quite a few myself" She spoke as they got to the coffee stand.

@naiveete

Getting up from his spot at the lounge, he moved back to the bar, taking a seat as he waited for someone to take his next drink order. He slouched, leaning more onto his left side as he rested his head in his left hand, enjoying this little moment of bliss he was having, one of the few he could manage to grasp since returning.

Was this a smart decision? No. It was late, later than he might have liked, since he would have to walk home alone, and risk the same thing happening. But he was being careless about that potential. Not wanting to think of, well, anything stressful at all, he opted to ramble, “Did you know-” He started, half just starting to talk to his neighbor, having not really tried to talk to them at all, “Small pockets of air inside cranberries cause them to bounce and float in water...Cool, right?”

Grumbling under his breath, he made his way toward the snack bar, finding all this nonsense at the drive-in to be ruining the evening. Maybe. He was still debating it. At least, it was, more or less, keeping him awake. But what was going down was more like an alarm clock going off on your day off from work, and it just would not stop. Perhaps he was thinking a little too much about it, now that he was starting to dip in wellness once more.

A slight layer of sweat had formed on his skin as he made his way as casually as he could muster, his eyes locked on the space in front of him. Even as the exhaustion caused his head to spin briefly for a couple of seconds here and there. It would pass, however, as it had been doing since his return. It always did. Napping helped. However, it did not entirely pass, as he came up to a scene that stuck out peculiarly to him. Quirking an eyebrow at what he was seeing, Azazel didn't need to lip-read just looking at Kael was good enough.

Exhausted brown eyes glanced toward the two standing around Kael's routes of escape, front or back, a sly smirk formed over his lips. Staring then toward Kael, catching the others' gaze toward him in a brief moment, he takes a step back, ducking out of sight behind a structure for cover. Moving to quietly remove his backpack, he dug through it, retrieving the knife he kept in there, figuring it would be easier than the gun he was carrying with him, since they were still surrounded by people. He tucked the knife up his shirt sleeve and then moved to bring his backpack back onto his shoulders.

Walking back out into view, he kept his attention not entirely on the scene, but on the one that had his back toward him. Quickly walking up behind that one he flicked out the arm concealing the blade, now that he was close enough to keep from others seeing him with it and doing anything to warn anyone he was close. Before bringing it to the neck of the masked person by pressing up close to them, he narrowed his eyes from behind them onto their partner, his other hand gripping at the back of the one he was holding the knife against the throat of, jerking it forcefully back to expose their throat more. Cold brown eyes remained on their partner as he pressed the blade against skin, enough to draw blood, “How about you kids go play somewhere else, hm?” He pressed the blade harder into flesh.

Turning his head a little, he whispered into the first masked person's ear, “I'm going to stick this blade deep into your brain, if I can find it- since it's peanut-sized and everything- then, once it's all blended up in there, I'm going to make your friend here watch as it spills out of your nose.” Still staring at the second masked person, “Just so they know what I'm going to do to them,- if you two don't get the fuck out of my sight by the time I count to ten-one…two…-three…” Now all he had to do was hope that Kael got a clue on what he should do next.

weekend of horrors, drive-in, after 8pm / @boneyardstarters

There was a part of him that knew, realistically, he should be a little panicked by this. Stressed out, maybe. Perhaps even a little afraid. But, somehow, the most prominent emotions shooting through his mind were embarrassment and exasperation. A series of mishaps and poorly executed attempts to scramble to gain an upper hand had gotten him into this exact situation but, really, none of it would have happened if the Big Guy back there could have just minded his own fucking business. Perhaps, having only just returned to consciousness, he was too out of it to really accept the weight of the situation. That, and he was in too much pain to think straight. There was little doubt his wrist was broken and it only took the briefest running of his tongue over his teeth to confirm that, no, he hadn't dreamt up that he'd lost one in that fight. (Calling it a fight might have been something of a stretch, given how poorly it had gone.) His mouth still tasted distinctly of iron.

Where did that leave him now? Sat at the drive-in theatre, between two of these big bodyguard-looking guys with no obvious means of escape. To put it simply, he was fucked. Perhaps he might have tried to make a break for it himself but there was little chance of him not getting caught in the best circumstances, never mind right now. It's clumsy, maybe even hopeless, but his only bet now was to try and catch the eye of a passer-by. There were enough people around, after all.

Oi. Look over here, he mouthed, trying to keep his posture stiff enough that the two people he was sat between did not catch on. Now, knowing his luck, the chances of him catching the eye of someone could lipread were fairly low but perhaps the desperate look on his face would speak for itself. You wanna help a guy out? I'm a little stuck.

Bring It On (2000) dir. Peyton Reed

Missy telling off the cheerleaders practicing at the eleventh hour requested by anons

Diverting his gaze, of course, not wanting to give her much reason to try and assess what may or may not have been going on with him these days. Though the sunglasses, despite being inside, stayed on his face. He still had dark circles and wasn't feeling his best. At her smile, he listened to Faye as she replied to him. Nodding his head a little along with her words, and laughing lightly at her return pinching gesture. Waving his right hand playfully, he says, “No reason to. Really. Nothing to be concerned about.” Azazel wouldn't say that was the truth, of course. But he couldn't remember all too well what had happened, perhaps he was even, he imagined, suppressing it.

Watching her drink down her shot, he lifted his left hand up to his face, resting his head in it as he leaned onto the bar top. He just wanted this. A return to normal, though, how much it did for his current abundance of nervousness and paranoid-things, like thoughts, sounds, sights. Waving his right hand as the bartender came back, he got another shot. Then turned his head, adjusting it slightly, “What? Can't a guy just go no contact for a bit?” Pausing, his brows knit together briefly, before he put on a smile, “You could say it's been about the same for me. Busy. Like a little bee.” Clearing his throat then he reached his hand out as his drink was placed in front of him. Staring at it for some time, “Just got to get back into the usual motions, ugh. Vacations over.” 

Lifting the glass, he tilted his head back as he brought it to his lips, downing the shot. Then gently placed it back on the bar top and, turning his head to look around. After tonight, things were not seeming right. He swallowed, then asked, “Been a weird night, huh?” Just to keep the conversation more present, though he knocked his head a little, “Guess this whole fest is always a little weird, though, you know? I remember coming out as a teenager, it used to have some unusual things to buy. A lot of aliens. But then, what do you expect? It's Nevada.”

a far more genuine chortle of laughter tumbles its way from between plump lips as Faye registers Azazel's response, the prolonged absence of companionship threatening to sink its way back into a sense of familiarity for her. having wondered about the man's abrupt leave for so long - pondering over what if's and what happened's - it was quite difficult to not miss him to a certain extent. of course, the ample time to linger over an acquaintance's hidden whereabouts would be drastically dwindled down after being swept up into more tasks for The Cactus Cats, or assisting in rearranging the haunted museum. to put it more simply, Faye was a busy, busy woman with heaps of responsibilities on her plate -- an aspect she wasn't necessarily in opposition to considering it made her feel like she truly discovered a place she could call home. but lately though? she deemed herself to be grateful for the minute relief now that the Weekend of Horrors event was swinging in full effect throughout Vegas, Stella and Cyrek long before then having been swamped with obligations of getting their records shop officially up and running for business aside from other duties.

pearly whites on display, the petite woman retaliated, "paint me just a tad bit concerned." dainty hands playfully feigning coolness as she brought her index finger and thumb close together to mimic a pinch gesture, afterwards quickly beckoning to the bartender on shift for another shot to be filled with her preferred vodka. directing her attention back towards the dark haired individual, her gaze scanned over the being perched next to her. it wasn't every day you went from often greeting a neighbor to noticing and growing accustomed to their mysterious departure, and he didn't seem to especially exude the indication of wanting to delve into the subject, so she'd leave matters well enough alone. grasping the same glassware to consume the clear booze within it, Faye swiftly tossed the tiny cup back before bringing it back to the wooden surface with a resounding 'thud.' raising her hand up to swipe the excess liquid away from a corner of her mouth, she replied, "and here i thought i had a knack for falling off the face of the Earth. i've been peachy - keeping busy, per usual - better now that my drinking buddy is back in town, and you?" God knows she wasn't going to prod, but if he was willing to open up to her as previous drunken sessions demonstrated, then who was she to turn away from him?

gothic horror rlly is just. aw fuck look at what youve done. the house has inherited your inter-generational trauma and in response has transformed itself into a metaphorical device to track the decay of the family. we're never gonna pay off that mortgage now

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.

With his eyes barely opened, he looked at the other as she spoke after clearing her throat. Azazel exhaled before opening his eyes and darting them around the space around them, sure he wouldn't get any sleep now. Tucking a hand under his head, he pressed it against his backpack he had tucked under his head, and listened to the other, closing his eyes for a moment more before starting to push himself up. Sitting, he slouched, before bending at his waist, bringing his right hand to rub his right eye, a yawn leaving him as the request penetrated his ears. He should say 'no', he didn't know her, it would have made sense.

But as he looked up at her again, he got a slight sense of the little sloth, even if just in part. Resting his head in his right hand, he mustered up a grin, trying to rest his right elbow against his right leg, but that only made everything more uncomfortable. So, instead, he sat up straight again, leaning against the back of the bench he had come to rest on. It was a strange request. But he supposed he could entertain it, or a little while, even if his paranoid mind was lighting up with all sorts of red flags. It did that regardless, making it hard to focus on the real ones, from the ones he might be gaslighting himself with.

Regardless, Azazel took a deep breath, rubbing his hands for a moment against his thighs and then forced a grin, trying to hide how nervous he was deep down, “Sure! Why not? You're not wrong, I suppose-” Pausing, he looked around, regardless of his internal thoughts, it was still true, it was lonely in the crowd. He had known this better than he would like to admit, being alone in a crowded room, having been a place he resided often. Taking his backpack, he stood and pulled the straps over his shoulders, patting the bottom of the pack, adjusting the contents inside. Then he moved his hand quickly out in front of him, gesturing for the other to lead the way.

marisol had always loved halloween. the spookiness, the fun tricks. at westbeth, they used to have trick or treating, but musical. where you had to hum a tune in order to get candy. this wasn’t westbeth, but it was her new home. Browsing the stalls, she found a few trinkets that caught her eye, that she picked up along the way. after a while, though, she felt loneliness creeping up inside her, and she knew she couldn’t brave this alone.. coming to a bench, she noticed someone sleeping, and quietly cleared her throat. “not to interrupt your rest,” she says sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head, “but i was wondering if you wanted to hang out, together? it’s kind of lonely being out here alone, surrounded by people. i get that's kind of an oxymoron, but, hang out with me? please?" wow, way to sound desperate, solly.