The moment of truth. The moment he'd been waiting for. Pushing up the fluff upon his chest one last time for good measure, the arachnid pushes his way through the pack of crowded bodies-- his arm desperately clinging onto his feline companion (@volatileroyalflush) all the while.
Damn, the party wasn't even close to being set into motion, but the energy in the room was already electric. The smell of food, sinfully sumptuous, combined with the glamor that seemed to cling to every nook and cranny of the bustling ballroom was enough to make any person unused to the sort of lavishness to feel akin to a fish out of water. Not Angel, though. No, in fact, he was in his element. The man couldn't have felt more euphoric at the thought.
What was first upon his agenda? A drink at the bar? A snack? Only time could tell. For now, he'd let wind blow whichever way it wished.
@qveenofgluttony
To say the feline felt wound tighter than a clock was pretty accurate. This, in contrast, was not Husks element. When was the last time he’d even gone to a shindig this big? Proabably a few decades, he guessed. Back when his name was a big deal. Now.. he’s washed up. So.. why did he ask Angel to go with him?
Right. To see Angel light up like a Christmas tree. To have just one night he could be himself and have fun without the pressures of being famous. Here was this bright constellation of a demon; and Husk felt like a dim star barely burning enough gas to be seen. He’d made peace with that years ago. Now? It couldn’t have been more obvious.
Yet the feline watches Angel like he was the only demon in the room. And to Husk? That may as well have been true.
