Knocking His Head Lightly From Side To Side, He Had Agreed. Though Anything Was Usually Comfy For Him,

At the voice demanding something of him, he opened his eyes a crack, glaring slightly at the rudeness of it, before giving his excuses. Afterward, however, the narrowed gaze remained. Azazel wondered what some people had against sleeping outside, it wasn't that bad. Clicking his tongue, he moved to sit up and looked around as Hux went on. Not really concerned with the danger, he moved to stretch and laughed hollowly, “If it's dangerous in the middle of the day, I'd hate to see how dangerous it will be when the night comes.” He wasn't too concerned with direct danger at the moment, though. No one would be stupid enough to propose many issues at this time of day. If they did, the knife in his backpack might help dissuade them. Crossing his arms over his chest, he's sitting, slouched, against the bench and watching Hux.

“What danger do you see right now? Hm?” Quirking an eyebrow as he asked this, he wanted to know what the other might consider a danger in the afternoon, to someone snoozing on a bench, crowded by people as they made their way from one booth to the other. Though he wasn't so ignorant as to not realize that, if someone intelligent were to attack at this time, with this crowd, they could very easily slip off. But still, the odds weren't likely, as he had nothing worth stealing, anything that could be stolen, he considered, was maybe a handful of Benjamins, and little else. Which he wasn't too concerned with losing. Azazel held his gaze intensely on Hux, before he continued, “Well? Where's the danger? Is it in the crowd around us today?” He teases a bit.

Of course, he wasn't silly enough to not factor that, percentage-wise, there had to be many dangers in the crowd with them, that day, or any other day, really. But, he was aiming at a more direct target of threat, possibly Hux himself, for even having brought it up in the first place. Azazel's gaze held, dark abyssal pools, staring back at the other, watching Hux intently. Waiting for the others' answer.

Easy food is always appreciated, specially after fate decided to keep other people coming this way for some reason. Hux was just an animal, he had no problem on accepting that, but as the apex predator, he still had some sort of control.

If there's something Hux is good at is at remembering faces; trauma built him that way and there's some recollection of seeing this person around the strip. Call it a sudden rush of benevolence or the idea of crippling guilt, but he knew that if he was there, others with way less decorum could or would be here soon. "Hey. Wake up". Voice deep and and intense unblinking stare, one could've swear there was a strange glow in his eyes for an instant as he towered over the other resting on the bench. "Shouldn't be sleeping here. It's dangerous. Go home".

“Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.”

— Sylvia Plath

i love them

Of course, not everyone was fully aware he had returned. It wasn't like he was trying to broadcast it, either. It was already a problem enough to explain to those he absolutely had to, about his absence, and then return. Without actually having to tell them what it was about. The current goings-on were a graceful distraction from all of that, however. People were more interested in their fun than in asking why he was away so long, what he was doing, and why people thought he might be dead. Clearly, he wasn't dead, but maybe he contemplated it at this point. Sweat coated as he stepped into the bar, looking somewhat sickly but quite presentable. All he had to do was tell himself he was fine, and the mental fortitude he was forcing on himself did the rest of the work. Moving to take a seat as he saw a familiar head in front of him, he grinned at the exclamation. Then, reaching over, he playfully pinched Faye's cheek, gently, before pulling his hand away from her face.

Then flagged down the bartender currently working, thankful it wasn't Cyrek. He supposed the other might be out having fun, or something he didn't want to think about at the moment. Maybe if he were lucky, the other might be face down in a ditch, and out of his hair. Okay, perhaps that was undeserved. He didn't wish anything too awful to happen to his…acquaintance. But, lately, his former irritation with the other seemed to reignite itself, with the other's previous actions perhaps being a little more unresolved for him than he previously thought. Azazel turned to properly face Faye, then said, “Did you miss me?” He asked as his drink, the usual he ordered, was placed in front of him, “Finally, some good liquor.” He muttered, gulping down the whole shot. Toying with the glass, he winces a bit, then continues, “Surprised you didn't see me before now, what have you been doing?”

event: weekend of horrors

location & date: the mean eyed-cat bar, april 21st, 1996 @ 9pm

closed starter: @withoutmonsterswebecomethem

a rather large throng of individuals occupied the mean-eyed cat bar this particular evening, but as expected, in blatant honesty. after all, it was the weekend of horrors, indicating the turnout consisted of a variety of characters and personalities, far and wide in between. some were dressed clad in cartoon themed attire, a group of young men donning each of the teenage mutant ninja turtles while some sported a flared out collar and a mimicked dribble of blood trailing from the corner of their lips. bringing the corner of her shot glass up to down the contents of vodka, faye couldn't help but to smoothly chuckle to herself upon the keen observance. oh, the irony. lips twist up to form a soured expression after the thick liquid cascaded down her throat, a brief shake of her head triggering corkscrew coils to fly about as though the action itself would aid in minimizing the alcohol's strength. but that wasn't the point at all, she was here for a purpose and that was to become under the influence. luckily for faye, her heightened sensitivities would allow that to take place quite easily. slamming the glassware down onto the mahogany surface, her thoughts come to a pause once she notices a familiar form settling down beside her, bambi like eyes widening by just the smallest fraction before she exclaimed, "pinch me!" talk about seeing a ghost.

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

As he finally caught sight of who it was that was at his door, he blinked away what remained of his sleep. His neighbor, Alice, he didn't imagine to be much to fret over. Until recently, glancing to one side, a few errant thoughts sprang to mind as to why she would be knocking at his door. Momentarily, his overthinking going to the worst, his heartbeat speeding up, he tapped a finger to his door knob, trying to put all his concern in that one part of him, appearing relaxed from Alice's point of view, “Oh. Right.” Azazel answered before looking back into his house, trying to remember if he had anything like that in his house. But of course he did, sugar seemed to be a standard in households, “No. You're not. I was-” He pauses, what was he doing? Napping in the middle of the day? It sounded like he was some kind of bum if he gave that answer, “Just getting ready for work, actually.”

He paused again to yawn again and pulled back from the door, waving her in, “Come in, or just stand there, I'll see what I got.” He then answered as he made his way to the kitchen, “Mind the mess, I'm waiting for the cleaning service to get here.” Azazel warned of the dark stains at the entrance to the house, before he disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of a couple of cabinets opening for a moment. Then he came back out, holding a pack of sugar, “Not even opened.” Though he couldn't say how long it had been in his cabinets, either. Whatever got her away from his house quickest, before anyone could see her, seemed to him to be the best way to go about this. Given the circumstances about the other.

Alice felt quite silly but in the midst of baking the cupcakes that she'd promised to make for Rhea's daycare (why had she agreed to do that again?), she realized that she didn't have any sugar. And now here she was, at her neighbor's door, literally asking to borrow sugar. She thought that was just an old saying but sure enough, here she was. Alice didn't really know Azazel too well but she figured that he seemed nice enough. Perhaps it was just the journalist in her but when he opened the door, it was pretty obvious that he had just woken up--and his question only further confirmed that. Do you realize what time it is? "Uh... Yeah, it's 2PM... Sorry to bother you, Azazel, but I was wondering if you had any sugar I could borrow? Or rather, have, I guess, since I can't really give it back? But if I'm interrupting something, I'll just go ask someone else," she said, wanting to get out of his hair. He clearly wasn't in the mood for visitors, which was fair enough.

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.”