(no subject)

[duke-of-lurk.livejournal.com]

Date: September 10th
Setting: Hastur and Ligur's horribly dingy room at Tadfield Manor
Status: Private - Hastur, Ligur
Summary: Hastur has come back to apologise


Hastur looked up at the side of the building and felt another overwhelming rush of dizzyness. A moment later he found himself on his back. He swore loudly and got unsteadily to his feet, then, picking up the torn shopping bag he'd brought with him, he began to slowly scale the drainpipe. About twenty minutes and a lot of swearing later, he reached the window to the room he and Ligur had been sharing and rapped loudly on the window, desperately trying to cling onto the drainpipe by his fingernails.

"Oi, Ligur!" he slurred, banging on the window again with the shopping bag. "Lemme'n! Ah jusswanna talk."

He screwed his eyes up for a moment and the window exploded outwards in a dizzying shower of glass. And what Hastur needed right now was not to be dizzy and pelted by billions of shards of glass. He let go.

Ten minutes later he dragged himself through the window and threw himself over the windowsill, landing on the grubby carpet of the bedroom floor and looking rather like a dying fish as he lay there flailing and trying to right himself.

"Ligur!" he shouted vaguely. "Where'n heaven'reyou?"

Comments

[i-hate-crawly.livejournal.com]

Ligur, who had just returned from what had been a particularly gloomy meal in the restaurant (anybody would have thought that that waiter didn’t want serve him his snake flambé and virgins blood), stared at Hastur’s sprawled out form. The overwhelming stench of brimstone and alcohol suggested that he was extraordinarily plastered.

A host of conflicting emotions rose in his chest. Burning rage vied for dominance with sheer relief at seeing he errant ex-lurking companion once more.

Well, he thought to himself, remembering the advice from the online troubled relationships support group he’d been lurking on for the last week, if he thinks that he can just barge in here and start demandin’ my attention after we’re all broke up and everything, then he’s got another thing coming.

“What d’you want” he demanded. “As if dumping me for Pazuzu with a bit of blood splattered parchment ain’t enough, now you’ve got to come in ‘ere and fall over on the bleedin’ carpet. You think that you can come in ere and fall over on the carpet any time you want, well you wrong. I ain’t going to stand for it. So there.”

[duke-of-lurk.livejournal.com]

Hastur groaned loudly and tried to focus on Ligur's face as he gazed up at him from the floor. He failed miserably. Never again, he thought vaguely to himself. After a spectacular row with Pazuzu during which it came out that he, Hastur, a bloody Duke of Hell, was just being used for his lurking proficiency and his VIP pass to the best bars in all of the underground, he'd taken himself off to said bars and proceeded to get blind drunk in every one of them, sobering up in between each (or at least most) and then doing it all again.

Then he'd started on the human bars, and they'd really done for him. In his current state it had seemed like something of a good idea to murder a couple of kittens and behead someone's rosebush and then come to visit Ligur with the intention of apologising. He didn't dare sober up in case he lost his bottle, or alternatively realised what a stupid idea it was.

Now, however, lying on his back and groaning faintly, he realised just how much he really had missed his ex-lurking partner and wondered what the hell he'd ever seen in Pazuzu and his stupid dresses and above all his half-arsed lurking. He'd spent most of the evening wondering this, but now confronted with the object of his obsessions all he wanted to do was curl up with him and pull the wings off flies while they watched the sun coming up through a haze of smog.

"'lo Ligur," he slurred. "You're lookin' paaarticuly terrible thisevenin'"

[i-hate-crawly.livejournal.com]

Despite his anger Ligur found himself preening slightly at the compliment. Still, he had made his mind up that any attempt on Hastur’s part to come crawling back, once the fling with Pazuzu, Belphegor or whoever it was this month was over, would be met with aloof contempt. The only trouble with this, of course, being that Ligur wasn’t quite certain what aloof contempt meant.

“Yeah,” he said, attempting to adopt a dismissive expression. “Look dead terrible, don’t I? I was thinking of asking er….” He grasped around in his mind for the name of suitable demon, “asking Dagon, yeah that’s it, if he wanted a bit of help with his filing, if you know what I mean. There, he thought with satisfaction, on seeing the sudden look of drunken horror on Hastur’s face, that’ll make him sorry for dumping me. He did not mention however the fact that he’d been involved in a brief, ill fated rebound flirtation with a minor demon by the name of Nisroch, who’d really just been impressed by the title and hadn’t given a blessing about Ligur’s interests. “Though that with you and me being all broken up and everything I should be looking round for someone else to lurk with.”

“Anyway, what was it what you’ve come ‘ere to say? I’m sure that Pazuzu must be Down There wonderin’ where you are.”

There, he thought to himself with satisfaction, that’ll show him that I’ve not been moping around for the last few weeks, well, ‘cept that I ‘ave, but he dunt know that.