popcornxgif | Complicated homecoming...

Entry tags:

alastor,
lady

Complicated homecoming...

It had been years since Alastor had last seen this town, bustling with humans and reeking of demons. It was almost comforting...if not for the fact that he knew his master was here. The master he'd abandoned without a word, who would be fully justified in striking him down for his insubordination. But it wasn't in Alastor's nature to run. He'd had his taste of freedom, now it was time to face the consequences. If he was lucky, maybe he could come out on top this time and be truly free.

But that would be once he entered Devil May Cry, something he would wait until daytime for. He didn't want to catch his master just returning from a demon hunt and ready to shoot anything that had fangs and claws. So in the darkness of the desert night, he stood atop a building across from the Devil Hunter's shop. His senses were attuned for any hint of magic approaching him, but he might not register an ordinary human right away.

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"Much. Though there won't be any pretending I'm not back out in the world after this. Then again, that was kind of the point of making such a show of it."

He shrugs as he takes off his helmet, showing more blood directly on his face.

"Though I'll feel even better if I can get this cleaned off before it turns sticky, so I'll be right back."

While she handled the call, he wandered into the bathroom. A minute later, the sound of a shower running filtered through the door. He would be taking a fairly quick shower, he was getting pretty hungry after throwing so much magic around all at once, so he'd end up coming out to raid the fridge fairly soon.

She nods; ear still pressed to the receiver of Dante's phone waiting for the client to pick up. The client being a fairly well off bottom rung socialite who had children playing in that park the last time the demon had attacked. She didn't expect the call to get picked up knowing that, but it did and she was passed around a few times until Lady was finally speaking to the woman. She handled payment arrangements and the meeting place for to pick up Alastor's payment. Hinted that it could be an older gentlemen as well. She'd have to talk to Morrison about it later.

When all was said and done, Lady was right back at the pool table-- racking up a new game. And much calmer.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Alastor steps out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and another over his head, wrapped around the base of his horns to over his hair. His wings are still dripping slightly, evidently having been lightly patted dry at the most. No wonder, really, given how soft that membrane is even dry.

He barely glances over at Lady at the pool table before heading for the small fridge in the corner of the room.

"Everything sorted?"

The only thing Lady can coherently think is 'oh good god' as her cue stick slides a little too quickly under her hands and she misses her intended shot. The ball, on the other hand, goes rocketing around the table until finally coming to rest at the far pocket.

"Huh? Uh, y-yeah. All set I need to talk to Morrison see if he wants to do the handoff or if he wants me to."

Please please let a hole open in the floor and swallow her now.

"Good. How much am I getting paid for this, anyway? I kinda stalked out before Dante managed to work out a price..."

He reaches into the fridge and shifts things around until he finds what he's looking for. Then he pulls out a bottle of apple juice and a bag of lunch meat.

"Want something while I'm in here?"

"Enough that if someone else had taken the job he could have paid me a hefty chunk of what he owes me." She pitches her voice up a couple notches, so Dante can hear her annoyance. Not that the pizza fiend likely cares.

She lets herself look for five seconds-- Enjoy the view of his bare back, and then she's turning her eyes intentionally back to the pool table. Not that looking away is helping her brain sort out how to fix the mess she'd made.

"You can't get what I want out of the fridge."

Dante continues reading his magazine as if he hadn't even heard while Alastor closes the fridge and opens the juice bottle.

"Don't yell at him for it, I kind of insisted on taking this one."

He takes a long drink from the bottle of juice before wiping his mouth and opening the bag of meat.

"What do you want, then?"

"I'm not yelling; just reminding him that he has a debt that he should be looking into how to pay off."

She lines up another shot. She is not going to look in his general direction until he has pants on. Or while he was still drinking juice. Why did she peek?

"You to put pants on." The balls crack together as she takes that shot. Rolling and hitting the bumpers as the rearrange themselves. The 8 ball coming dangerously close to falling into the left side pocket.

He puts a hand on his hip with a slight huff.

"I'm covered, what's the problem? Besides, this is more comfortable than pants."

Instead, of responding she makes a point studiously ignoring him as she takes another shot and then another. Mumbling about how that wasn't actually the point, and that pants would be easier.

He still doesn't get how a towel is much different from pants, so he's just going to sit on the couch with his snack.

"Sorry if the thunder was a bit loud, by the way. It was my way of sending a message."

"It was fine."

He nods and rolls up a bit of the meat to chew on, then pauses.

"And, uh...lemme know when you've gotta leave. That storm's going to go for a while on its own, but I can stop it if you want."

She takes another shot. The crack of the balls hitting each other filling the immediate silence.

"Probably after I finish this game."

"So no calling winners, huh?"

Which, with a solo game, would basically just be challenging the one playing.

"Not without pants."

"If you take your time, I should be dry enough that my wings won't drip on anything I put on by then..."

"We'll see what happens."

"I'd suggest hurrying up, if you don't want to get your butt kicked."

He turns to look over at the pool table with a cocky, albeit still playful, smirk.

"You're assuming you can kick my butt."

She keeps playing at the same pace as before. Not particularly worried, though it isn't hard to tell there's a certain amount of frenetic energy to her shots or how she paces around the table.

"You're doubting my hand-eye coordination? Well, now I have to play."

He spreads his wings out and gives them a flap or two, still smirking.

"Should I? Games not done yet, and you're still pantsless."

She might have been mildly concerned if she'd actually been facing him to see the smirk. Besides she had every intent of leaving just soon as she got the 8 ball in the pocket.

"Hmmm...I guess I can afford to get them a bit damp. I'll be changing outfits when I switch to human form, anyway."

He tosses the last of the lunch meat into his mouth before getting up and heading toward the closet Dante stores his old weapons in.

"That wasn't an invitation."

She very nearly yells it, instead it comes out as a sort of annoyed screech. The sound of the door for the closet opening and closing making her turn in puzzlement. One that stays in place even as she turns back to her game to begin finishing it out.

That finally gets Dante to look up from his magazine, raising an eyebrow at her.

"If you don't wanna play, why not just tell him?"

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