Complicated homecoming...

[superstylishsquid]

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.

Comments

[patricided]

I see. That's...that was ...

[Actually she doesn't really know what that was. And the conflict over that rolls off her.]

Yeah that would suck.

[superstylishschism]

But I managed to get you to go to sleep before you could really do anything else you'd regret, at least...

[patricided]

How'd you do that?

[superstylishschism]

By...uh...promising to stay with you. That's why you were using me as a pillow when you woke up.

[patricided]

I see.

[Awkward. So awkward. On the one hand way to go drunk her on the other for fricks sake drunk self.]

Thanks for promising that. I probably wasn't in any condition to protect myself if I had needed to.

[superstylishschism]

Probably not, no. That's...actually kind of why I came over in the first place. I got a text from you and could tell you were drunk, so I was kinda worried you'd have a problem if you got into some sort of trouble.

[patricided]

You didn't have to do that.

[superstylishschism]

*Shrug.*

Didn't have any reason not to, either.

[patricided]

[She's quiet a moment.]

Thank you.

[She's just going to back to eating her pancakes now.]

[superstylishschism]

Don't worry about it. It...um... *Poke poke at food.* Would've been kind of nice, if I hadn't only been there because you were drunk.

[patricided]

[blink Oh um how does she answer that? She picks up her coffee to buy some time and takes a large sip. It was nice when she woke up this morning...]

We'll just uh have to see what happens.

[superstylishschism]

Yeah...

*Ahem.*

How's the coffee, by the way? I don't use coffee makers very often, so I wasn't sure I used the right amount.

[patricided]

It's alright. Could be a little stronger, but it's drinkable.

[The creamer helped make it a little closer to what she usually made herself, but it was good enough given what he just said.]

[superstylishschism]

Huh. With how strong it smells, you'd think you wouldn't need quite so much. But I'll keep that in mind next time.

[patricided]

Here try it.

[This is totally normal offering her coffee to someone else to try it. Totally normal.]

[superstylishschism]

*He sets his utensils down and reaches over to take the mug, careful not to spill it. And he will be nice and just drink enough to get a taste.*

You're right...but it's still good. Is that chocolate peppermint?

[patricided]

Yes.

[Should she be worried you're going to steal her coffee?]

[superstylishschism]

*Not all of it! ...Although he does take another sip before giving it back.*

I'll have to keep an eye out. Dante doesn't keep flavored creamers around, he just drinks that canned stuff.

[patricided]

[She does not snatch it back exactly but there is a definitely possessive pull when she takes it back.]

It shouldn't be too hard to find. The canned stuff isn't bad either.

[superstylishschism]

I have a bias towards warm drinks, so it's not really my cup of tea.

[patricided]

Eat your pancakes before I take them from you.

[superstylishschism]

Hey, don't threaten a devil's food!

*Pulling his plate closer and there's something almost protective about the way he chomps down on the bit of pancake on his fork.*

[patricided]

Don't steal my coffee.

[Is that a grin? Yes it is. She knows very well not to steal a devils food unless she's sure she can get away with it.]

[superstylishschism]

Alright, alright...

*Smiiiiirk.*

But you didn't say anything about the creamer.

[patricided]

You don't want to know the pain that would bring.