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]

[Sighing she rolls away]

You know where the bathroom is, have at it.

[superstylishschism]

*He stands up, then looks back with a mischievous smirk.*

Not going to show me there? I'll bet you'd enjoy the chance to get another good look at my back...

[patricided]

[Getting up she pads out of the room and motions for him to follow her down the short hall to her bathroom.]

I think you can figure out how to work the shower on your own, right?

[superstylishschism]

*He shrugs and heads in, using his tail to close the door behind him. A minute or so later, the shower starts up. Hopefully she won't mind if he steams up the bathroom...*

[patricided]

[She doesn't mind. When he finally comes out of the bathroom, Lady is curled up on the couch with a book balanced on her knees. The text making it obvious she had a job that she was doing research for. Try not to be too surprised by the text being non-English.]

[superstylishschism]

*He's not exactly surprised, no. When he comes back out, quite a bit later, he's put his pants back on but is carrying his shirt under one arm. There's a towel over his hair, which probably looks extra silly because it's under his horns, but shut up. And, of course, his wings are dripping slightly.

None of that stops him from glancing over her shoulder to see what language that book is in.*

[patricided]

[It's in Italian and not modern Italian either. And clearly an original text if the gloves she's wearing and the newly pulled shades are anything to go by. There's a legal pad and pen on her coffee table, lines of text copied over with words circled and notes around them connected by lines and arrows to the original. Some are scratched out like she changed her mind about meaning or understanding.

She doesn't look up from what she's doing when he joins her, though she is aware that he's hovering over her shoulder as she carefully turns another thin page.]

Glad I took my shower first.

[superstylishschism]

I don't think I used all the hot water?

*He'll just lean himself on the couch, careful not to bump her while she's handling something so fragile.*

That's some sort of Italian, right?

[patricided]

That's alright.

Fifteenth century. Straight from the church. Sometimes they actually get things right about the less pleasant members of your species.

[superstylishschism]

Sometimes. I tend not to trust churches on matters of the supernatural in general, though. Too much of people writing what they wanna believe.

Then again, humans supposedly still practiced magic back then, so maybe they did have something right. Assuming the successful summoners lived to tell what they saw...

[patricided]

You learn to weed out the bullshit with enough study. Still useful as a starting point even if I need to consult other sources in the long run.

[superstylishschism]

Wish I could help, but I didn't even get much news from the underworld except for the big stuff after the start of the war between humans and demons.

[patricided]

Don't worry about it. This is one part of the job I really prefer doing on my own. Less confusion in the end result.

[Carefully she closes the book and sets it aside writing the page number on the legal pad so as not to do damage to the binding.]

Feel better?

[superstylishschism]

I always tend to feel better after a hot shower. Well, aside from not being able to sit on anything I shouldn't get wet, anyway...

[patricided]

You poor thing.

[She tilts her head back. Oh bad choice, face full of bare chest.]

You mind?

[superstylishschism]

*At least he's clean? But he does scoot aside a bit to get out of her face.*

Sorry, bit hard to recognize a language I'm only half familiar with from a distance.

[patricided]

[Clean is good. And the space is a much needed reprieve.]

I don't mind you reading over my shoulder when the language intrigues you. Can't you put your shirt on though?

[superstylishschism]

Ever tried to put on stretchy clothes over wet limbs? Not easy.

[patricided]

There's these inventions called towels. You have noticed me wearing one earlier.

[superstylishschism]

*Just going to. Point at the one over his hair.*

There's this thing called soft skin, it doesn't like having things scrubbed over it. There's only so dry I can get my wings with a towel without leaving them sore.

[patricided]

[She tilts her head at him a moment]

I'm just not going to comment on that at all.

[superstylishschism]

Hey, I tried to be vague...

*Not his fault wings have to be sensitive to be any use...*

[patricided]

[Or not use too if memory serves.]

Sorry I have a very vivid memory of needing to make a hasty escape because of them.

[superstylishschism]

Hey, I tried to warn you! You were the one who couldn't take a hint.

[patricided]

They shouldn't be that soft.