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]

Better?

[superstylishschism]

It is. Heh...I can't remember the last time I had someone just lay down next to me like this that wasn't when you fell asleep on me. And I don't think it's ever happened without an ulterior motive before.

It's a nice feeling, having someone there just because they want to be.

[patricided]

Maybe my ulterior motive is to see if you being here will help me fall asleep.

[superstylishschism]

Maybe, but doesn't that imply that you feel more comfortable with me here?

[patricided]

[She shifts a little and glances up at him.] You talk too much.

[superstylishschism]

Well then, how about I just give you a goodnight kiss so you can sleep?

*He's grinning, and there's a playful edge in his voice.*

[patricided]

[can you hear her eyes rolling? she shoves him lightly and somehow manages to sound vaguely long-suffering when she finally speaks despite there being an obvious touch of amusement.]

If you must.

[superstylishschism]

*Okay, he expected the shove. But what she says gets his eyebrows to raise slightly. Well, if she's actually giving him permission...he brushes her hair aside with the back of his hand and gives her a light, affectionate kiss on the cheek.*

Sleep well, Milady.

[patricided]

[there's a half second pause before she's laughing, and under normal circumstances that would be fine, except she has the monster of all headaches so when she finally calms enough to breathe it's followed by a wheezy ow and a frown]

That isn't helping.

[superstylishschism]

But I like seeing you laugh. Though, I guess now's not the time to be playing games with words.

*She's not going to mind him brushing his fingers through her hair again, right?*

Here's hoping you feel better after a nap.

[patricided]

No it's not.

[Actually she's just going to nuzzle a little into his hand while he does it.]

Mhm...

[superstylishschism]

*Well then, he'll just keep playing with her hair. It's soft and feathery. He'll be quiet now, just laying there with a fond look on his face and his eyes glowing with a soft, comforting light.*

[patricided]

[That's actually really nice as far as she's concerned. A little distracting at first, but not entirely displeasing. If anything it's helping her drift off; her eyes growing heavy, and before she knows it she's off in dreamland.]

[superstylishschism]

*After a while, he ends up dozing off too, the glow fading from his eyes as he drifts to sleep. His dreams are unusually peaceful, and leave him with a small, content smile on his face.*

[patricided]

[Most of the morning is gone when Lady finally wakes the second time. A slow rise to wakefulness that ends in her stretching against her cuddle partner. One eyes opening a little to check and see if he's awake too.]

[superstylishschism]

*He's still asleep at first, arms wrapped around her and that content smile still on his face. But when she moves, a light flickers behind his eyelids and he yawns.

When his eyes squint open, the glow is weak enough that goat-like pupils are barely visible against a white background, but they quickly disappear as his eyes brighten.*

Mornin'. Feeling better?

[patricided]

Hey you're eyes look different.

[That's actually a yes she feels much better but there are slightly more interesting things to talk about than her finally gone headache and seemingly settled stomach.]

[superstylishschism]

Huh? Oh.

*He chuckles a bit, but doesn't seem inclined to move. Nah, he'll stay right here.*

The light changes with my mood. It flickers out when I'm sleeping.

[patricided]

[Does he see her moving?]

They're pretty.

[superstylishschism]

Don't hear that often. But y'know, yours are too.

[patricided]

[Her nose scrunches and she buries her face in his shoulder.]

No they aren't.

[superstylishschism]

They are.

*He brushes his hand against the side of her face, trying to encourage her to look back up.*

I think the contrast makes them more attractive.

[patricided]

They are not.

[ She's not looking back while her cheeks are flaming the way they are. Not even for him brushing her hair back]

[superstylishschism]

Hey, if my headlight eyes can be pretty, so can your boat lights.

[patricided]

My what eyes?

[Well congratulations, that got her to look at him]