He Couldn't Guess When Exactly He Even Fell Asleep, To Be Honest. Maybe That Was Just Part Of What Was

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.

TWIN PEAKS | 1.06

Glancing over at the male sitting near him, he curled his nose a bit. Adjusting his head back against his backpack as he was trying to silence the crowd around him again. But those few seconds of sleep had seemed to be all he would be getting, all his mind was going to allow him for the moment. Listening to the other reply to him, he continued to keep his eyes closed for a bit, before turning his face into his hand and just staying like that for a bit before moving to sit up, “If you wanted to.” He wondered if that meant he was not making himself much of a target. Which was clearly good, given he was so easy to fall asleep in such an open and public space, amongst a crowd, “Maybe- but I doubt you would have found anything of worth besides a couple of hundred in cash.”

Which he wasn't willing to kill a man over, so he'd just let it be taken and enjoyed his nap. Staring at the other's neck, he wondered just how easy it could have been done while they were preoccupied with their petty thieving. Then, he blinked and looked away, bringing his left hand up to massage his temple as he pushed those errant thoughts out of his mind. Those weren't really his. Or, he thought, was so unlike him. Or was it? Azazel moved to sit up, “You could say I'm living my life on the razor's edge, I guess?”

Levi found himself taking a smoke break pretty often, not even due to the stress at this point. It was just habit. He figured he'd be a little polite and take a break near a bench. Though it felt like everyone smoked nowadays. He watched a couple head towards a booth, shaking his head. "Fuckin' suckers." He muttered under his breath, forgetting that he was in public. Honestly, Levi was just talking to himself, which he did a lot. it probably made him seem a little bit crazy to others. "That's what everyone says. But y'know, ain't nothing wrong with sleeping. Might not wanna do it 'round here. If I wanted to, I could've taken whatever was in your pockets."

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?

Even without her having said a fucking word to him, he knew she was 'on one' today. The cleaner always seemed to be at odds with…cleaning, or at least, usually when he had seen Tatum, it seemed to happen enough times that just the look on her face told him what was on her mind, sometimes. As she finally spoke, he offered the best smile he could muster, given how his, well, life was going at the moment. She almost looked as ragged, and he momentarily wondered if it was job-related. But, of course, it was, “Ah. Four cups.” Nodding along with that, he only wished multiple cups of coffee could help with his situation. Though he'd be lying if he hadn't tried to down a couple of pots of coffee in an attempt, “Long night, doing your job? That's so horrible, Tatum. Here.” He kicked lightly at the opposite side of the booth from him.

“You should take a rest. You're going to work yourself into an early grave.” With that, he looked away, back to whatever he had been doing at that moment, learning about frogs, going by the title of the book in front of him on the table he sat at. Turning the page over, he lifted his free hand up, holding a fork, scooping up some hash browns onto it and taking a bite. As she continued, he continued to keep his attention on his book, “Hmm.” That was his only response, initially. But after a couple of long agonizing moments of silence, he answered, “Well, as long as you do it quietly, I can tell you the correct number to set your frequency to 'dog only' status.” Finally, he looked over at her, giving her a pointed look. Joking back a bit.

OPEN: to everyone @boneyardstarters

LOCATION: the waffle cottage, morning

Why did mob types always seem to have a nasty habit of, ehem, making messes that needed cleaning up at ungodly hours? Just once, Tatum would love to have a call be at like, 4pm on a Thursday. But no. Apparently, high noon in mob terms was 2am, or whenever Tate was dead-to-the-world asleep. Which was why now, she was positively exhausted, having failed to get back to sleep after her cleaning gig the night prior. She was doing her best to not appear like an extra from Night of the Living Dead, but it was a struggle. “I think it’s gonna be a 4 cups of coffee kind of day today.” Tate groaned, the sound dropping off into a laugh. She nodded to her companion, or rather, the person opposite her in the booth who she’d invited for a late breakfast. “Be honest, how many coffees can I have before you think I start buzzing at a frequency only dogs can hear?” She joked.

found on reddit

and the artist's tumblr: @nullxface

what will azazel do… if they're being threatened?

Bringing his right hand up to pinch his nose, Azazel squeezed his eyes shut, hearing the threat, especially from someone who looked like they belonged in an amusement park entertaining children. For a split moment, an intrusive thought invaded his mind amongst the irritation that was consuming him. He imagined just pulling his gun on the other and firing point-blank into their head, especially given the idea that they thought he could be threatened. He'd been running with the Vitelli gang long enough now that he had heard plenty of threats, most of which did next to, if not a single thing for him. It was not that he was not scared, of course. It was simply who the threat was by, and most people he knew were not all that threatening to him. Once the invasive thought had left him, he put on a smile, offering brightness to mask how brutal he could be if any threat to him became real.

Azazel laughed, hollow, “Well, why don't we cut the chit-chat, and you get to doing that? Hm? Until then, I think there's still a place for you at the kids' table. Kay?” Turning away, he rolled his eyes and walked away, as if tempting them still to do what they threatened, instead of just being words that did nothing for him. He had a lot more things to worry about these days, than some petulant child trying to mouth off to him when one broad backhand and a few loose or knocked out teeth could send them scattering away to go whimper and whine in a corner, then cry 'wolf' because their mouth was writing checks it couldn't cash. Azazel couldn't care one bit about little dogs when there were plenty of bigger, more feral dogs to focus his efforts on. Those were less likely to talk a big game and act on their greater desires. Azazel knows to strike the shepherd, not the sheep. So he tries to lay his plans on those who act, rather than those who talk, when it is the advantage to do so.

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.”