#sinistearadio

[arachnoheaux]

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ─── - ̗̀♡ @sinistearadio ✖✖✖ pinned!

"Oh..." Alastor's smile falters as, quite suddenly, the tables are turned. Mere moment ago, he was chatting up the arachnid after his return from 'work.' He offered him a drink or two for his poor, aching back, and summoned Husk unceremoniously to get to work filling their glasses. They all engaged in some light banter; the Radio Demon willingly letting down a few walls to capture his small, but valued audience. Several more drinks in and the 'light banter' had shifted in tune to the aching want that exuded from the spider demon - Alastor playing along with him and snapping for another drink. Even with his system filled with alcohol, he believed himself to still be in control of their situation, and had thus offered to bring Angel Demon back to his room. Whatever happened next was entirely, surprisingly, out of his control. Pinned against the wall mere inches from Angel Dust's bedroom door, microphone dropping to the ground near one of his hooves, the Radio Demon had never felt so exposed in his life than he did right now. His look of surprise is quickly replaced with a strained smile, as eyes flick to meet those of his current counterpart.

"Angel, my dear, what ever do you think you're doing? A display of aggression like this is beneath you."

" ... No... " No, it's not? No, he's not thinking of what he's doing? Angel's body slightly jumps with a small hiccup bouncing his diaphragm as his forehead bumps against the wall above Alastor's shoulder.

He knew better than to think the Radio Demon was gifting him pure kindness in entertaining him; he'd been there when he first arrived, afterall. But why, then, was he feeling a certain dizzying more than drink? Angel could hold his own after many glasses, even laced, and the shots they'd shared weren't even too strong. Was Alastor just that natural at being, playing a host? Did he simply love the sound of his own voice? Or was he trying so hard, putting in so much effort... for him?

Angel knew better. Angel. Knew. Better. But his knees were weak and the way Alastor looked at and chastized him made him feel heavy.

The spider had never been taken care of in quite such a way. Demons with no ulterior motive simply had no business seeking him. Was everybody right? Was this ( whore ) really that easy? He knew Alastor was a different sort when it came to intimacies, or rather, lack thereof. He knew others like him.

When was the last time he felt this way?

" No, you're... m'not... " Another hiccup. Angel dared not look him in the eye. " I ain' meanin' like that. M'just... could'ja...? " Finally finding the gall to catch his gaze again, Angel lifts from the wall, pushing far enough away to retrieve Alastor's staff and offer it to him as a means of adding another barrier between them. ( But not quite letting his fingertips leave the wallpaper for fear of falling atop him. )

" Could'ja stay? " he pleads, mirroring the uncertainty in Alastor's eyes. Yes... such a gesture was below him... but maybe, for some reason, Alastor was making him feel that much weaker a man.

" Just... 'til I fall asleep... I don'... I don' wanna be alone. "

How could an Overlord seem so small?

[er0t0ph0n0philia]

@sinistearadio | from here

—

He doesn’t quite respond to what Alastor’s saying, but he does nod. He could be agreeing, he could be thinking, or he could be wildly uncomfortable— it’s not obvious. “… I mean, yeah, that’s true, but it wasn’t really the point I was trying to— make!”

He didn’t hear Alastor move, so the arm is quite a surprise. He doesn’t flinch, exactly, but he does go ramrod straight, neither moving away from or into the touch. In any other situation, he would have clapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, but he seems like he’s trying not to startle Alastor. (Like, well, a deer in headlights.)

“I! Uh. Yes, I have heard of it— on your broadcasts, the news, at work. It’s everywhere, ya know. Wildest idea for a long while, but I— I like it. It’s interesting. I hope it— I hope it succeeds. What of it?” He might not have to crane his head up to look Alastor in the face, but he can feel the demon towering over him, and it makes him feel small. He never felt small like that until he met his first Sinner.

[flxshy]

@sinistearadio Liked for a Lucifer Starter

"For someone so proud of your redecorations they sure are TACKY."

[arachnoheaux]

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ─── - ̗̀♡ @sinistearadio ✖✖✖ clumsy

It was unbecoming for a demon of his stature to be labeled as 'clumsy' and yet, here he was. Whether it was the rickety old building or the poor care taken when dressing the stairs with carpet, of all things, or - dare he even think it - something to do with himself personally, he wasn't sure. He did have a lot on his mind this morning and he would have even more knocking around in his skull now that his impromptu trip resulted in a hand darting out for his closest object of support - Angel Dust's shoulder. Fighting back the eyeroll was nigh impossible, but he did succeed in recovering from his lapse of unprofessionalism and rendered his brief look of surprise null and void with his usual, wide smile stretching quickly across his face. "Ah, Angel!" He gives the arachnid a squeeze of his shoulder as he makes a feeble attempt to appear as though this were all part of his personalized show. After all, feigned confidence was a better tool than weak honesty. "Such a pleasure to see you up and about so bright and early! Don't tell me you've come to visit the lobby for a good morning drink, hm~?"

Descending the stairs tap - tapping away on his phone, Angel was almost much too preoccupied to give Alastor a proper greeting as he almost met his stride. He started to feel him down the hall, afterall, static a bit thicker than usual with thoughts almost as all encompassing as his own as he quickly saw to the misshaps and requests piling into his inbox. But with as many hands as he had, how could one not be a master multitasker?

Apparently, the sort to catch an Overlord. " Hey Smiles, what's gotcha - ? " was all he could get out before he realized Alastor was falling! So with reflexes quicker than a cat, Angel reached out to him with all three of his free arms, bracing his chest, shoulders, and grasping him by the waist. Moreso to protect his dignity than the threat of tumbling itself. They were demons in Hell, afterall. When one could not die, Pride ( fittingly ) was the most one had!

But with the Radio Demon in his arms... Angel took an unexpected pause. Yes, the man was small beside him. Not by too much, but small nonetheless. For being as lithe and thin as he was as well, he was also very... solid. Solid in that way that almost prompted Angel's masculine - loving soul to grip and appreciate his form more tightly ー

But just as quickly as Alastor regained his composure, Angel's hands flew back to himself, save for one that gently pat the one Alastor left upon his shoulder. As far as he was concerned, nobody saw that from either of them! A knowing chuckle, and Angel returned to his stride ( with an extra eye out towards his fellow perchance he loses coordination over his legs like a newborn fawn again! )

" Y'know how I pretty much brush my TEETH wit' a bottle of Jack every mornin' ~ " Angel carefreely sang into the open foyer, " 'Specially the ones I haven' slept fa SHIT! So, what are YOU doin' up so early? I always figured youse a midnight oil kin'a guy, but'cha got somethin' ta do wit' lil' Miss Twinkle Tits, or somethin'? "

[arachnoheaux]

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ─── - ̗̀♡ @sinistearadio ✖✖✖ 💐

Alastor drummed his fingers along the top of his microphone. Hands folded over one another, he stand awkwardly outside of the arachnid's room. If one listened closely, they might hear the static that emanated from some portion of his body (his skin? his mouth?). This was a confusing mess that he found himself in and he was still unsure about the consequences he would reap upon following it through, but he was never one to shy away from that which could be so entertaining. Besides, he earned a night out, didn't he? While he hadn't helped with the rebuilding process, he was certainly responsible for the ground work that got this shabby little thing of a hotel going. And while he deemed the new look gaudy and flashy, it would certainly be enough to catch the attention of every denizen of Hell. A bold move and one he was forced to respect. Now, however, recovering from his injuries of a fight that still grated at every nerve in his body, Alastor stood rigid as a stone. He could not believe he was about to ask the hotel's resident whore out on a date but it was all part of his bigger, grander plan. A plan that he...was still in the process of working through, but that hardly mattered. What mattered now was following through. Lifting his damn hand and knocking on the door. "Hmmm..." A buzz of a sound, hands clenching his microphone in a desperate attempt to defy him before (at last!) a hand lifts, closes into a fist, and raps against the door. The mask goes on. The stage is set. The show can now finally begin. "Oh, Angel Dust, my dear~! Could I persuade you to open the door? I've got quite the offer you can't possibly refuse; should your schedule allow it."

The new hotel sure was grand! Definitely much more livable than the previous, though he'd be lying if he claimed not to miss the homliness. The walls creaked, and the very air seemed to hold more dead souls in it than the rest of the Pride Ring combined! But if he were being honest with himself... there was a bit much neon. Too much neon. It was clean, upscaled, and almost felt too much like the studio ー

Then a rap at his door stilled his thoughts. Was he really so lost in them that he didn't notice Alastor at his door? Not to mention, feel him? Was this new hotel so saturated with light and activity that the Radio Demon's prior constant humming buzzing static didn't quite stand out anymore? He used to be able to tell whenever Alastor was present at the hotel, and vaguely follow his general concentration of subsonic noise to guess where in the hotel he was. Seeming to lose that almost made him a little sad, but there was no time for that. Especially not when he was being summoned for the first time by someone he seldom spoke to.

Dimming his bedroom lights to calm his senses enough to focus on Alastor proper, Angel placed Fat Nuggets back into his bed before brushing imaginary lint off his clothes and meeting Alastor at the door.

" Smiles ~ ! " he greeted fondly with outstretched arms he knew weren't going to be entered. It was just for show, anyways. " How's ya...? " Vaguely gesturing to his entire body, Angel found himself struck by the realization ( or rather lack thereof ) that he didn't quite know what happened during his fight with Adam. Most particularly, why it ended. Up until he showed, Angel assumed Alastor had died with the rest of the residents. ( Though he did recall the faintest bit of static continuing to ripple the rubble. )

" How's... " Angel chuckled awkwardly before surrendering a hand to his hip, " All a ya, I guess? Ya scared the shit outta all of us for a hot sec! " From what little he could tell from Alastor's demeanor, he was in a bit of pain, wasn't he? Standing aside, Angel offered Alastor a seat at his vanity. " Where are my manners? " he joked with a snort, " C'mon. Go ahead an' park ya ass over 'ere fa a sec b'fore ya quote the rest of the Godfather at me! "

[infernal-feminae]

@sinistearadio || x

Emily beamed, oblivious to his irritation to her joyful demeanor. Bless her pure heart.

"Haha, that's okay! She probably hadn't gotten around to you yet. She has been busy with the...oncoming Extermination." The Seraphim laughed, although there was no real humor in her voice.

"Not...exactly. You see, I was really moved by Charlie's passion for her project during the trial and so I've come to lend my assistance! I've already spoken to her about it. So um..." She peeked around Alastor's frame into the hotel before glancing back at him. "Is it alright if I come in...?"

[er0t0ph0n0philia]

@sinistearadio | from here

—

He’s still training his ears to listen to the road, every bone in his body on alert, when Alastor starts talking. It takes him a moment to calm his heart and filter the adrenaline from his blood, but he finally snaps back to attention just as Alastor asks for his name. “Oh! I, uh, it’s Nikkolas— Nikki. Nikki Knockout. And you’re— Alastor, right? The Radio Demon.”

He finally relaxes his posture, confident that there aren't any more cars swerving too close to the curb. "But it's— it’s nothing. Bet they couldn’t have gotten close to ya, anyways.” It doesn’t make him feel any less good about himself, though. Something about actually being helpful instead of a deadweight has been giving him more kick than usual lately.