(no subject)

[i-hate-crawly.livejournal.com]

Date: Febuary 1st, 2000
Setting: An empty room somewhere on the second floor.
Status: Private (Hastur & Ligur), though other characters could walk in on them if they want to.
Summary: Hastur and Ligur discuss their infernal plans



Ligur opened the dilapidated looking door and walked into the empty room. It was small, extremely dusty and the absence of any furniture or floor coverings gave it, in Ligur's mind at least, a pleasantly dilapidate air. The first time he'd stumbled across the place had been just after the Halloween party, when he'd been looking for somewhere to have a skulk in private, and it had struck him as an ideal spot to hold a clandestine plotting an schemeing session. At the time this had upset him somewhat as it only served to highlight the fact that he had nobody to plot and scheme with. Hastur's return however had rectified this situation. Both Dukes had of course been very busy of late with their respective projects, but Ligur felt that the time had come for them to pool their resources once more.

With a complex - and slightly obscene - looking hand gesture Ligur materialised a blood and bile splattered sofa (with a charming floral print), sat down and waited for Hastur to arrive.

Comments

[born-to-lurk.livejournal.com]

"I've got a right few in the works. Little mayhem here and there. A good bit of tempting." He nodded, rubbing at his chin with one dirty finger, the pointed nail black around the edges. "Just finished with that ambassodor, the one with the hump. Wanted a mistress. Sent up one of them succibae, lazy layabouts. Big political scandal, but not big enough for any assassination attempts or revolts. Nothing quite like a good revolt, but times change," the demon remarked in false lament.

He craned his neck to get a better view of Ligur's list, eyeing it appreciatively. "Snake gutting. Right before angel felling for me."

[i-hate-crawly.livejournal.com]

Ligur's hideous leer intensified. "Ah, angel felling," he said, audibly savouring the word 'felling', "that's an artform that is. Course, it's a nightmare convincing the halo polishing ponces to jump off their heavenly pedestals, but when they do...." He left the sentence trailing, memories of the last time he'd witnessed an angel fall causing him to experience a wave of sadistic glee.

"Snake gutting'll always come first for me though," he continued in tones that managed to be whistful and vicious at the same time. "Problem at the moment is that the snake I really want to eviscerate is under the bosses son's protection while he's here."

He paused to indulge in a momentary fantasy of exactly what he could do to the bastard snake if he did somehow manage to get him away from the manor.

"Reckon that I might try and get my Dark Lord to expand his spreading of death, panic and terror to the not magical world and all. You wouldn't believe how many souls I've helped secure in exchange for ensuring that that Voldemort bloke won't come after 'em. Course most of 'em are too jumpy to remember to specify that they don't want Voldemort or his followers to come after 'em, but that makes it all the more entertaining when it happens."

[born-to-lurk.livejournal.com]

Hastur gave a charming sneer, sharing in Ligur's fantasies. The rack, boiling in oil, and the strappado would be mere child's play to what he had in mind for the demon. "Crawly will get what's coming to him. We'll see to that. Let the little bastard get comfortable. His luck will run out soon enough."

He let out a small hiss of a laugh, thin lips pulling back to reveal fangs. "Sounds like the good ol' days. The unbridled chaos of war. People swearing allegiance to Our Lord Satan left and right. What we need now is another good steady plague to get things going. Nothing sets off desperation and sinning like a good plague."

[i-hate-crawly.livejournal.com]

Ligur's eyes lit up. "Can't beat a plague. Always thought that it's a shame that ol' Pestilence retired. Helped us snag a fair few souls in his time. Can't say I think much of the new boy. I mean alright, Pollution's caused a fair few disasters, but can you say that they've done that much to increase sinning. Fair enough, I'll give him the desperation bit, but there wasn't a whole bunch of people up for selling their souls after that Chenobyl thingie was there? An' it sometimes seems like ecological disasters bring out the generosity in people."

He materialised a rather foul looking cigarette the end of which instantly combusted. He then proceeded to take a drag, before breathing forth a a stream of thick, putrid smelling smoke.

"Course, I 'ave seen old Pestilence hanging about the Manor. D'you reckon that he'd cook something up for us if we asked him?"