Shifting, He Spoke Into His Cellphone, One Of The Newer Versions Of The Time. It Cost Him A Great Sum

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.

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.

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."

Every single time

Hence my circle so small

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.

A Day To Remember - Better Off This Way

When you fall I’ll be the only one who looks away  When you call I’ll be the first to tell you I can’t stay 

Recognizing the familiar voice, he grinned, keeping his eyes closed another moment or so before turning his head into his hand. Andrea wasn't someone he'd been planning to run into today. Not that he was going out of his way to run into anyone, or anything, as of late. Since what was going on with him lately was making him a bit more distant, even if unconsciously so, most of the time. As Andrea went on, he continued to press his face into his hand, remaining lying down, “Your couch is a hell of a lot more comfortable than this bench.” He shifted and pushed himself up so that he was sitting and rubbed his hand to his face, then brushed it over his head, not really fixing his hair, since it was a bit too short still.

“Coffee doesn't sound half bad right now.” Reaching out his hand to his friend, he took up their offer before moving to stand and grabbing his backpack with his other hand. Pulling the straps over his shoulders, he adjusts it and knocks his head, “How's your day been going? Finding anything in these booths?” Azazel asked as he stretched a bit, holding his arms out in front of him, cracking his fingers as he held them together.

Andrea had been helping out at the Skratch Records booth, usually taking care of the records but every now and again found themselves chatting to people that came by the booth. She decided to take a break, she needed it, also she wanted to have a look at some of the other booths. However while on her way to one of the booths, she noticed a familiar face fast asleep on one of the benches. "Hey there sleepy head." The blonde let a chuckle escape from her lips watching as he woke up with a startle. "I think you said that when you fell asleep on my couch. Wanna grab some coffee, I could use some and you look like you might need some too." She smiled holding out one of her hands to him.

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.

i love them