(no subject)

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Date: August 12th, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Manor, Bar
Status: Private - Belial, Remus
Summary: Fuming Demon meets Werewolf. Conversation ensues.



Belial's hand hurt from scrubbing tables. He'd worn the skin on his thumb a shiny, raw red from pressing it against the grain of the wood.

His skin still smelled, beneath the layered scent of cleaning supplies, like that blasted angel, despite his every effort to remove it. He began to stink of it--but maybe it was only in his mind.

It was late, and he'd barely noticed, the darkness hardly penetrating his meditative concentration on cleaning. There'd been no patrons for several hours, and he thought should probably close up. His eyes lingered on the window for a long moment and he wallowed in the pervasive silence.

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[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

He smiled back at Roman, appreciating the odd man's respect of his privacy. There was something odd--and animal--about him, but that could be understood.

"You can come back anytime. I'll be here--I hardly ever sleep," he said, understating the fact. "I've no use for it."

He swirled a minute tornado of rum in his glass, gazing steadily at it. "If I'm not, you're welcome to come find me."

[-moonylupin-.livejournal.com]

Remus sensed his cue to leave. He nodded, grinning suddenly. "Thank you, Belial, for your sparkling company, your delicious meal, and your generous rum." He stood, gathering his felt cloak to him, and took a last sip from his glass.

"I really must get back to my room," Remus said, regretfully, straightening his clothes. He started to turn, stopped and surveyed Belial, looking a bit surprised at the sad expression he saw writ in the demon's slightly glittery face as he watched rum spin idly in his glass.

"You look like you're unlucky in love," was all Remus offered, when Belial looked up, and then he was off, disappearing down the darkened hallway from whence he came.