[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

crimsonheld‌:

“I can fix it tonight.” Pete said reassuringly. Normally, he wouldn’t agree to something on the spot, since he was normally swamped with work and his …side business. “It shouldn’t take very long.”  The goth glanced at the door and then motioned for Damien to follow him into the back. Since Pete spent so much time here, he had his own set up going in the breakroom. He didn’t have many employees, so no one really utilized the break room. There was a locked cabinet in the corner that he walked towards. Among the change of clothes, back up eyeliner and blankets, he kept a sewing kit in there. @vos-estis-sal-tarrae​

Trailing along into the back room, Damien was like a shadow in the way that he loomed behind, far back enough to get a good look at the room and take mental notes of his surroundings. Noting the blankets, Damien didn’t say anything, but took that as definitely proof that, at least occasionally, Pete spent the night here at work; that, or he was sleeping on the job, but Damien couldn’t imagine that. Not after Pete wouldn’t shut down the shop to fix his hat… priorities.

“It better look cool,” he smirked; he didn’t mean to laugh, but Damien was well aware that Pete was likely only putting up with him at this point. “How would you like to have some monsters up here sometime?” he glanced around the room; he could just imagine it: monsters of all kinds sweeping the floors, getting the tomato sauce prepped for the pizzas, cleaning the ovens… Pete could just chill and check up on them once in a while. Damien would pay them in unfortunate monsters turned steaks. Was that cannibalism? He didn’t care to consider that too in depth. “They could pick up some of the slack around here.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete’s eyebrow twitched at the word ‘slack’. He wasn’t slacking as much as drowning. But he didn’t say anything. “I don’t think that’s a very sound idea.” Demons running around his shop? No thank you, he had enough to worry about.

“They’ll look fine.” Pete promised and scooped up an empty ice cream container with needles, black thread, scissors and other sewing accouterments.   He held out his hand. “Let me see the hat.  @vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

crimsonheld‌:

Pete felt bad for Damien. His emotional outburst reminded Pete of himself. The goth also had a bad habit of going full white-boy and putting his fist through the dry wall. And it never made him feel any better or any more in control. It must be rough, only being known as the anti-christ.

The goth could relate to an extent, but not to the level of being THE anti-christ. Though the gothic subculture had become more accepted throughout the years, he was still misjudged on the daily about a lot of things.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Pete said, approaching Damien and gently taking the hat from him. “Yeah. I can fix it for you.” He held it up and looked at the tears in them. “Yeah, this is saveable.”

“Tonight?” Patience was a virtue of which Damien had never learned to grasp for long. “I mean, are you going to fix it tonight?” Glancing down at the tile floor, Damien smirked, “I can wait, but it won’t take longer than a week, will it?” He could go a week, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to. He still didn’t know if he would even like having a beanie where his horns were meant to still be showing. He tried to keep in mind that Pete was doing him a favor.

“So, am I paying you in cleanup work or in my company?” he laughed, “I can stick around all afternoon, all night if I bring a book to read, something to do.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

“I can fix it tonight.” Pete said reassuringly. Normally, he wouldn’t agree to something on the spot, since he was normally swamped with work and his ...side business. “It shouldn’t take very long.”  The goth glanced at the door and then motioned for Damien to follow him into the back. Since Pete spent so much time here, he had his own set up going in the breakroom. He didn’t have many employees, so no one really utilized the break room. There was a locked cabinet in the corner that he walked towards. Among the change of clothes, back up eyeliner and blankets, he kept a sewing kit in there. @vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

crimsonheld‌:

“I’m listening.” Pete said, turning to look at him. He saw that Damien was getting pretty wound up, and Pete was curious to see him pop off. It wasn’t that he disliked Damien and wanted to see him upset. But Pete found it incredibly interesting that the demon prince was becoming so worked up and upset over nothing.  “Cut holes in them.” Pete was no stranger to sewing, he was a DIY goth all the way. Though, he appreciated his (non-goth) friends and family’s attempt to shop for him adequately. But he still wasn’t going to wear anything from KILLSTAR or Black Craft Cult in public. “And then hem the edges so it doesn’t become undone. 

@vos-estis-sal-tarrae

“But the point of the hats is that nobody can see my horns when I don’t want them to!” he stressed, even though he felt relief knowing that, with a little bit of hemming, his favorite hat could be saved, even if it meant that it wouldn’t be serving it’s original concealing purpose any longer. “We don’t get much tourism in South Park, but sometimes it’s-” growling deep in his throat, Damien was disgusted by his own admissions of occasional shame in who he was. “Sometimes it’s nice to give a real first impression, one that doesn’t come right after something, something evil.”

Pacing circles, Damien had half a mind to disappear through a portal and leave Pete in the pizza place even if he had a feeling that Pete would appreciate not having to deal with him and his angst filled angry rants that were coming from left and right that morning. “So you can fix it for me?” he took off the black beanie, feeling a bit sheepish after his emotional outburst.

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete felt bad for Damien. His emotional outburst reminded Pete of himself. The goth also had a bad habit of going full white-boy and putting his fist through the dry wall. And it never made him feel any better or any more in control. It must be rough, only being known as the anti-christ.

The goth could relate to an extent, but not to the level of being THE anti-christ. Though the gothic subculture had become more accepted throughout the years, he was still misjudged on the daily about a lot of things.

"Hey, it's okay." Pete said, approaching Damien and gently taking the hat from him. "Yeah. I can fix it for you." He held it up and looked at the tears in them. "Yeah, this is saveable."

[naughtyandnicerpmemes]

Reblog if I'm allowed to send you in character asks even if we have never talked before.

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

crimsonheld‌:

‘Well, yeah. You don’t think I slave away here because of pizza money, right?’

Definitely not, but holding the store manager position had it’s benefits. For example, if Pete had anyone to take over for an entire pay period, he’d still get a 1,200 dollar paycheck. Most of Pete’s income was dirty money anyway.  “No.” Pete said flatly. “I don’t close the store unless I have to.” Or if he felt like it enough. But he wasn’t to close the shop to go play with Damien. There was still a business to run and more pills to sling. 

“You just told me that you close when- nevermind.” If he was to keep pushing Pete’s buttons, he was sure that the goth would just stop talking to him. That, or have him escorted out of the pizza place. “You know why nobody is here, right? It’s because the pizza shop across town has a two for one deal all week this week. That, or because it’s only nine in the morning and nobody orders pizza at nine in the morning.”

Checking out his reflection in the circular mirror on the wall meant for keeping a view of the restaurant, Damien readjusted the black beanie he was wearing. “Damnnit, my horns keep tearing holes in my hat and this is my favorite one. Pete?” the demon prince was frustrated, wanting all eyes on him: how was he supposed to go into a rant about how there wasn’t a single type of hat that was horn proof if he wasn’t going to be listening?

[crimsonheld-blog]

“I’m listening.” Pete said, turning to look at him. He saw that Damien was getting pretty wound up, and Pete was curious to see him pop off. It wasn’t that he disliked Damien and wanted to see him upset. But Pete found it incredibly interesting that the demon prince was becoming so worked up and upset over nothing.  “Cut holes in them.” Pete was no stranger to sewing, he was a DIY goth all the way. Though, he appreciated his (non-goth) friends and family’s attempt to shop for him adequately. But he still wasn’t going to wear anything from KILLSTAR or Black Craft Cult in public. “And then hem the edges so it doesn’t become undone. 

@vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

“Of course he wouldn’t find out. He’s never here.” Pete said, flicking the oven on and kicking the empty rolling tray into the back of the store, where the sink and dry stock was. “I close the store all the time, when I need to.”

He sighed and hoisted himself up onto the counter to sit. The goth had done inventory last night, so now there was nothing to do until he started getting orders, which wouldn’t be for a few hours. “But I need to make sales.” @crimsonheld —- Hopping up onto the counter beside the goth, Damien felt for him: it had to be frustrating to work so hard only for the boss to go missing for months at a time yet reap the benefits. Of course, that was how it always went, whether the boss was present or not. “I’ve never had a job,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I used to want one, but I couldn’t keep one even if someone took a chance and hired me.” He wasn’t proud of that, but, at the same time, he saw not having to find a nine to five as one of the few perks of being the son of the devil.

[crimsonheld-blog]

“I’ve been the store manager here since I was 16.” Pete said, sounding regretful. Was having a teenager come in before and after school on most days illegal? Yes. Incredibly illegal. But thankfully, this little hole-in-the-wall pizza shop wasn’t very high on anyone’s list and thankfully, this was South Park. “What do you need a job for?” Pete asked, mindlessly making conversation until the front doors swung open.  A man in his early to mid twenties came strolling in. His hands were in his pockets and his hood was up. The man was dressed in loose, wrinkled clothing and looked strung out. “Hey.” The man said, bring his hand up to his phone in a “call me” motion. “I called earlier about a pizza.”  Pete moved surprisingly quick and went to a box that had been sitting on the heating rack for several minutes now. But instead of handing it to him, Pete put his back to both the man and Damien as he discreetly tossed something into box and onto the pizza.  The man handed Pete a few folded up bills and took the box. The outermost bill was a fifty. Way too much for one pizza, but Pete didn;t give him change and the man didn’t wait for any. 

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

Holding his tongue, Damien watched the guy and Pete. He made no move to hop down from the counter like he normally would have knowing that it wasn’t seen as proper etiquette to be up there, but it was jealousy and a sense that there was something about this guy that kept him from bothering to move. Then again, who was he to think that he should be privy to other people’s secrets? Damien had wanted to be let in on every secret he could pick up on ever since he was a child and meetings between his father and other demons would be had without him being allowed in the room.

“Wow, with tips like that, it’s no wonder you don’t pick the old boss man up by the collar and demand a raise or a day off.” A lot of misplaced anger; he himself wasn’t some kind of transparent saint. “Fuck, sorry,” catching himself before he could continue to run his mouth, Damien forced a smile, “if I slipped something more than that into your pockets, would you close the shop for the day? But I want a pizza out of it, or a couple of those bottles of domestic wine.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

‘Well, yeah. You don’t think I slave away here because of pizza money, right?’

Definitely not, but holding the store manager position had it’s benefits. For example, if Pete had anyone to take over for an entire pay period, he’d still get a 1,200 dollar paycheck. Most of Pete’s income was dirty money anyway.  “No.” Pete said flatly. “I don’t close the store unless I have to.” Or if he felt like it enough. But he wasn’t to close the shop to go play with Damien. There was still a business to run and more pills to sling. 

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

“Of course he wouldn’t find out. He’s never here.” Pete said, flicking the oven on and kicking the empty rolling tray into the back of the store, where the sink and dry stock was. “I close the store all the time, when I need to.”

He sighed and hoisted himself up onto the counter to sit. The goth had done inventory last night, so now there was nothing to do until he started getting orders, which wouldn’t be for a few hours. “But I need to make sales.” @crimsonheld —- Hopping up onto the counter beside the goth, Damien felt for him: it had to be frustrating to work so hard only for the boss to go missing for months at a time yet reap the benefits. Of course, that was how it always went, whether the boss was present or not. “I’ve never had a job,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I used to want one, but I couldn’t keep one even if someone took a chance and hired me.” He wasn’t proud of that, but, at the same time, he saw not having to find a nine to five as one of the few perks of being the son of the devil.

[crimsonheld-blog]

“I’ve been the store manager here since I was 16.” Pete said, sounding regretful. Was having a teenager come in before and after school on most days illegal? Yes. Incredibly illegal. But thankfully, this little hole-in-the-wall pizza shop wasn’t very high on anyone’s list and thankfully, this was South Park. “What do you need a job for?” Pete asked, mindlessly making conversation until the front doors swung open.  A man in his early to mid twenties came strolling in. His hands were in his pockets and his hood was up. The man was dressed in loose, wrinkled clothing and looked strung out. “Hey.” The man said, bring his hand up to his phone in a “call me” motion. “I called earlier about a pizza.”  Pete moved surprisingly quick and went to a box that had been sitting on the heating rack for several minutes now. But instead of handing it to him, Pete put his back to both the man and Damien as he discreetly tossed something into box and onto the pizza.  The man handed Pete a few folded up bills and took the box. The outermost bill was a fifty. Way too much for one pizza, but Pete didn;t give him change and the man didn’t wait for any. 

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

What was the point of going home if he wasn’t even going to sleep? But he wasn’t about to tell Damien that. There was a couch in the break room and it’s comfortable enough. He finished reading his book, and had started a new one in the time it took for the sun to come back up. When morning came, Pete had washed his face, applied his make up and used some baby wipes on himself (gross, Pete knows). He deflated at the sight of Damien, realizing he might want to get comfortable with the fact that this was going to be a regular thing. When Damien said Clopening, Pete simply gave him the ‘hang loose’ hand gesture. “My boss hasn’t come by in three months.” Pete said, going back to his rolling cart of ingredients. He began loading the containers of toppings onto the prep table. As Damien would soon notice, Pete was often the only one there, minus the drivers coming in and out of the store. Though Pete made the schedule himself, his only available employees were high schoolers who would only work after four. Often, this was fine. Pete had been making pizzas long enough to keep up with a few back to back orders. @crimsonheld

—-

“Interesting,” normally, a person didn’t want to hear interest in Damien’s voice: he liked to think that he could be trusted nowadays, unlike back in grade school when he would do anything for instant attention, including making things hell for those he wanted to befriend. The demon didn’t have any plans to take advantage of there being no boss patrolling the place to keep him from snooping around, though; he wasn’t a moment away from sneaking into the back and raiding the fridges to put together a one of a kind concoction, even if creating a pizza and lasagna mix sounded funny and he would keep the boredom away for at least an hour. He decided not to push his luck or be deemed a next level nuisance.

“Ever thought about just not opening? Taking the day off and hanging a sign on the door that says you’re hosting a private event or something? I bet the boss wouldn’t find out,” he smirked, watching Pete set out the ingredients.

[crimsonheld-blog]

"Of course he wouldn't find out. He's never here." Pete said, flicking the oven on and kicking the empty rolling tray into the back of the store, where the sink and dry stock was. "I close the store all the time, when I need to."

He sighed and hoisted himself up onto the counter to sit. The goth had done inventory last night, so now there was nothing to do until he started getting orders, which wouldn't be for a few hours. "But I need to make sales."

@vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[memetaped]

nonverbal starters prompts featuring nonverbal scenarios.

guide take them by the hand, arm, or shoulder to guide them.

shelter protect them.

shove push them.

loop drape an arm around their shoulders.

touch a gentle touch like rubbing their back, hugging them, holding their hand. 

kiss a kiss on the cheek, knuckles, forehead, in their hair.

palm smack them upside the head.

bed rest gently push them back down when they try getting out of bed.

aid help them with a task.

note pass a note to them.

cry wipe away their tears.

wash wipe something off their forehead, cheek, so on.

bandage patch them up when they get hurt.

heal take care of them when they get sick.

book silently read a story with them. 

carry pick them up. 

scrap punch them.

cherry find blood on them.

sit help them sit down.  

medical wake up in the hospital and find them holding their hand.

steer place a hand under their chin to make them look up. 

beat dance with them.

stare stare them down. 

off track get lost with them.

no shaking their head in disagreement. 

yes nodding their head in agreement.

rush tackle them to the ground.

open hold the door open for them.

[crimsonheld-blog]

send me prompts for an interaction from Pete!

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

“If you would.” Pete said, spreading the dough over a circular screen. He dipped a ladle into a massive bucket of marinara sauce and spread it over the pizza. After working at the pizza place for so long, Pete’s movements were quick and calculated. He’d lost so many hours to this place, and the goth thought about that often.

The night transpired with no other major events. The rush hit like a truck, but it was nothing that the 30mgs of Adderall coursing through Pete’s brain wouldn’t fix. Only problem is that he’d be up until his next shift tomorrow morning, like he was most nights. “Alright, dude.” Pete said, tapping one of the tables with the corner of his phone. I’m closing up shop, time to bounce.”  @crimsonheld

—-

“I could stay and watch the shop until store open,” Damien suggested, knowing that Pete was more likely to allow just about anyone else to do that but him. The demon prince knew that time was up, but that didn’t make him any less ready to get up and leave; he didn’t want to go home yet… but there was a small part of him that reasoned that he needed to knock it off and stop bothering the goth. He could find another place to loiter around until he was ready to go home, and, if he played his cards right and wasn’t a nuisance, then he could always come back and chill at the pizza place with his refillable soda.

“Alright,” getting up from the booth, Damien dropped the empty soda cup into the recycling bin, but the Antichrist could only be so mature when he didn’t want to be: and so he wore a pout as he left through the doors, as if he could cause Pete a shred of guilt. “So, did that woman tip?” he asked, “She seemed like the rich type who quote unquote tip in bible pamphlets.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete stood with his arms crossed and watched Damien get up from his seat. The goth could only assume Damien had nothing better to do.

He stood with the keys aready in the lock and the door 1/3 of the way closed. “Uh.. Yeah. She tipped.” Pete almost felt guilty kicking him out into the cold…Almost.

He went back to the table behind the counter and continued to count the till.

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

Tiiiiiiiime skiiiiiiip

Did he dare show up at the same pizza shop the next morning? Of course he did. And was he ready to claim the first unlimited soda of the day? He’d be fuming if someone got there before him in line and ordered it first.

“Do you sleep here or something? Clopening,” Damien smirked, “I can have your boss’s car mysteriously set on fire if you’re interested,” he leaned against the counter, pleased to see that he and Pete were the only ones there unless there was a cook in the back. He couldn’t sense any other humans, though, so, unless the scent of the pizza ovens was covering them up, he wouldn’t have to think about keeping his voice down. “We can settle for setting his pants on fire if the car is too much.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

What was the point of going home if he wasn’t even going to sleep? But he wasn’t about to tell Damien that. There was a couch in the break room and it’s comfortable enough. He finished reading his book, and had started a new one in the time it took for the sun to come back up.  When morning came, Pete had washed his face, applied his make up and used some baby wipes on himself (gross, Pete knows). He deflated at the sight of Damien, realizing he might want to get comfortable with the fact that this was going to be a regular thing. When Damien said Clopening, Pete simply gave him the ‘hang loose’ hand gesture. “My boss hasn’t come by in three months.” Pete said, going back to his rolling cart of ingredients. He began loading the containers of toppings onto the prep table.  As Damien would soon notice, Pete was often the only one there, minus the drivers coming in and out of the store. Though Pete made the schedule himself, his only available employees were high schoolers who would only work after four. Often, this was fine. Pete had been making pizzas long enough to keep up with a few back to back orders. 

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

“If you would.” Pete said, spreading the dough over a circular screen. He dipped a ladle into a massive bucket of marinara sauce and spread it over the pizza. After working at the pizza place for so long, Pete’s movements were quick and calculated. He’d lost so many hours to this place, and the goth thought about that often.

The night transpired with no other major events. The rush hit like a truck, but it was nothing that the 30mgs of Adderall coursing through Pete’s brain wouldn’t fix. Only problem is that he’d be up until his next shift tomorrow morning, like he was most nights. “Alright, dude.” Pete said, tapping one of the tables with the corner of his phone. I’m closing up shop, time to bounce.”  @crimsonheld

—-

“I could stay and watch the shop until store open,” Damien suggested, knowing that Pete was more likely to allow just about anyone else to do that but him. The demon prince knew that time was up, but that didn’t make him any less ready to get up and leave; he didn’t want to go home yet… but there was a small part of him that reasoned that he needed to knock it off and stop bothering the goth. He could find another place to loiter around until he was ready to go home, and, if he played his cards right and wasn’t a nuisance, then he could always come back and chill at the pizza place with his refillable soda.

“Alright,” getting up from the booth, Damien dropped the empty soda cup into the recycling bin, but the Antichrist could only be so mature when he didn’t want to be: and so he wore a pout as he left through the doors, as if he could cause Pete a shred of guilt. “So, did that woman tip?” he asked, “She seemed like the rich type who quote unquote tip in bible pamphlets.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete stood with his arms crossed and watched Damien get up from his seat. The goth could only assume Damien had nothing better to do.

He stood with the keys aready in the lock and the door 1/3 of the way closed. "Uh.. Yeah. She tipped." Pete almost felt guilty kicking him out into the cold...Almost.

He went back to the table behind the counter and continued to count the till.

[butyoudidntbreakme]

It’s not a date if you don’t somehow end up hiding in a water fountain, in a fight with a stranger, or covered in mud somewhere along the way.

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

Pete watched the interaction from behind a pile of pre-folded boxes. He walked up to Damien with a tired expression and his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Dude, quit it. You don’t work here.” The irritation in Pete’s voice was mild, but he was starting to get annoyed. Pete straightened the pile of menu’s on the counter and began to start stretching dough for a delivery order. Fuck me, he thought. This is all i need right now. Pete stretched out the door in a matter of seconds, and spun it in the air(yes, it does help stretch the dough.) @crimsonheld

—-

“Okay, okay, I’ll go refill my soda and mind my own business,” Damien smirked, but, despite the tease, he did just that; he even went on to ignore the puzzled look the woman who he’d just helped with a menu was giving him. He went so far as to switch sides of the booth so that he was no longer facing her and wouldn’t be tempted to speak with her. Taking out his phone, Damien put in his headphones and watched a couple of videos to pass the time, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before he’d likely be kicked out of the pizza place at closing.

[crimsonheld-blog]

“If you would.” Pete said, spreading the dough over a circular screen. He dipped a ladle into a massive bucket of marinara sauce and spread it over the pizza. After working at the pizza place for so long, Pete’s movements were quick and calculated. He’d lost so many hours to this place, and the goth thought about that often. 

The night transpired with no other major events. The rush hit like a truck, but it was nothing that the 30mgs of Adderall coursing through Pete’s brain wouldn’t fix. Only problem is that he’d be up until his next shift tomorrow morning, like he was most nights.  “Alright, dude.” Pete said, tapping one of the tables with the corner of his phone. I’m closing up shop, time to bounce.”  @vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

When the owners of the pizza place had decided to advertise unlimited refills, they definitely weren’t imagining that they would be inviting in the Antichrist who loved those kinds of deals: it meant that he could stroll on in and stick around for hours on end, playing games on his phone, reading books, and eavesdropping on other customer’s conversations just as long as he had a soda cup full of coca cola beside him.

Chewing on the straw, he was irritated: five times and he still couldn’t beat this level on the game on his phone. Instead of making a scene, Damien deleted the game out of impulse and switched over to read a couple of pages of the book he’d brought with him, which he would quickly decide was boring. Looking up from the book, the restaurant had gotten quiet over the last couple of minutes, but it would still be a couple of hours before closing time. The demon could see Pete busy with work. “The soda machine is out of syrup,” he said as soon as Pete was close enough to hear him. He was lying, but looking for attention.

@crimsonheld

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

Upon hearing Damien say “all of them”, Pete’s shoulders sunk and he blinked. The truck had come yesterday, so he knew for a fact that any of them being out was unlikely. Sigh. Whatever.

He watched the poor woman’s car swerve before she managed to pull over. Damn. Pete looked over at Damien once again, gripping the edge of the counter and leaning on it. The goth was exhausted. He was starting to sweat off his foundation, and his eyeshadow was creasing and his brows weren’t as crisp as the were in the morning. There was so much to do still, and Pete didn’t want to do any of it. FUCK. Pete could use a shower right about now. 

Retreated back into the kitchen, in case the woman did decide to order something while she waited. But he didn’t acknowledge Damien any further, and let him continue to sit in the booth.  @crimsonheld

——

Scowling, he watched as Pete left to the kitchen. For how far he went to cause trouble, he wasn’t getting any attention. Sure enough, the woman came over to the pizza place, the bell on the door jingling as she walked through. Getting up from the booth, Damien put on his best smile… maybe not the most sincere of smiles, judging by the nervous look the stylish blonde had given him in return.

“Welcome. It looks like you must have wracked up some serious karma judging by what just happened out there,” he laughed, “… too soon? My apologies, I’m new here. I have to put my customer service skills to use and, well, you’re my first customer,” he smirked, earning a laugh from the woman who went on to assure him that he had a lot to learn in that case. It was when he’d lead her to a booth and brought a menu that he could hear Pete coming back. Turning around, he grinned, “I think she thought I was funny,” he said just quietly enough so that she wouldn’t hear.

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete watched the interaction from behind a pile of pre-folded boxes. He walked up to Damien with a tired expression and his hands shoved into his pockets.  “Dude, quit it. You don’t work here.” The irritation in Pete’s voice was mild, but he was starting to get annoyed.  Pete straightened the pile of menu’s on the counter and began to start stretching dough for a delivery order. Fuck me, he thought. This is all i need right now. Pete stretched out the door in a matter of seconds, and spun it in the air(yes, it does help stretch the dough.)

@vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

When the owners of the pizza place had decided to advertise unlimited refills, they definitely weren’t imagining that they would be inviting in the Antichrist who loved those kinds of deals: it meant that he could stroll on in and stick around for hours on end, playing games on his phone, reading books, and eavesdropping on other customer’s conversations just as long as he had a soda cup full of coca cola beside him.

Chewing on the straw, he was irritated: five times and he still couldn’t beat this level on the game on his phone. Instead of making a scene, Damien deleted the game out of impulse and switched over to read a couple of pages of the book he’d brought with him, which he would quickly decide was boring. Looking up from the book, the restaurant had gotten quiet over the last couple of minutes, but it would still be a couple of hours before closing time. The demon could see Pete busy with work. “The soda machine is out of syrup,” he said as soon as Pete was close enough to hear him. He was lying, but looking for attention.

@crimsonheld

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete had spent the last 45 minutes scrubbing in between the tiles on the floor behind the counter. The deep ridges got surprisingly disgusting in only a matter of days, and Pete slaved away for this reason alone rather often. Leave it to this godforsaken pizza shop to have the most inconvenient everything. And leave it to Pete to take all of it.  6:56pm. Pete clocked in at 7:00am, and wouldn’t be clocking out until midnight. He wasn’t sure of the legal consequences that would follow this long history of 12h+ shifts as a minor. But this place was low profile, and being a minor was behind him.  He stood back up to refill his bucket with clean water when Damien commented on the soda machine.  “Which soda?” He asked casually.  @vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

Happy to have gotten a response, the demon prince was hiding his shit eating grin behind his hand, resting an elbow on the table. “All of them,” he tried to erase any evidence that he was teasing out of his voice. “They’re all flat, flat like that innocent woman’s tires out there,” he commented, pointing out one of the windows. Sure enough, there were a couple of cars lined up, waiting to go once the light turned green, and, at Damien’s word, her tires had all popped. Turning back to face Pete, he leaned back in his booth, “Maybe she will come inside and order something while she waits for the tow truck.”

[crimsonheld-blog]

Upon hearing Damien say “all of them”, Pete’s shoulders sunk and he blinked. The truck had come yesterday, so he knew for a fact that any of them being out was unlikely. Sigh. Whatever. He watched the poor woman’s car swerve before she managed to pull over. Damn. Pete looked over at Damien once again, gripping the edge of the counter and leaning on it. The goth was exhausted. He was starting to sweat off his foundation, and his eyeshadow was creasing and his brows weren’t as crisp as the were in the morning. There was so much to do still, and Pete didn’t want to do any of it. FUCK. Pete could use a shower right about now.  Retreated back into the kitchen, in case the woman did decide to order something while she waited. But he didn’t acknowledge Damien any further, and let him continue to sit in the booth. 

[vos-estis-sal-tarrae]

When the owners of the pizza place had decided to advertise unlimited refills, they definitely weren’t imagining that they would be inviting in the Antichrist who loved those kinds of deals: it meant that he could stroll on in and stick around for hours on end, playing games on his phone, reading books, and eavesdropping on other customer’s conversations just as long as he had a soda cup full of coca cola beside him.

Chewing on the straw, he was irritated: five times and he still couldn’t beat this level on the game on his phone. Instead of making a scene, Damien deleted the game out of impulse and switched over to read a couple of pages of the book he’d brought with him, which he would quickly decide was boring. Looking up from the book, the restaurant had gotten quiet over the last couple of minutes, but it would still be a couple of hours before closing time. The demon could see Pete busy with work. “The soda machine is out of syrup,” he said as soon as Pete was close enough to hear him. He was lying, but looking for attention.

@crimsonheld

[crimsonheld-blog]

Pete had spent the last 45 minutes scrubbing in between the tiles on the floor behind the counter. The deep ridges got surprisingly disgusting in only a matter of days, and Pete slaved away for this reason alone rather often. Leave it to this godforsaken pizza shop to have the most inconvenient everything. And leave it to Pete to take all of it.  6:56pm. Pete clocked in at 7:00am, and wouldn’t be clocking out until midnight. He wasn’t sure of the legal consequences that would follow this long history of 12h+ shifts as a minor. But this place was low profile, and being a minor was behind him.  He stood back up to refill his bucket with clean water when Damien commented on the soda machine.  “Which soda?” He asked casually.  @vos-estis-sal-tarrae

[crimsonheld-blog]

ooc.

woah, it’s been a while since i’ve logged into this account. i’m trying to get back into RP and i’ll be at my desk for the rest of the day. like this/shoot me a message if you want to start a thread with Pete (: