#SO MANY FACES IN THE WORLD BUT I WANT YOURSSS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

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Hangout - 11/24

Click the read more if you want to see @hiss-and-vinegar and Alastor have some extremely affectionate, tender, cuddly, and emotionally supportive best friend fluff.

And also to see a snake and a deer violently wrestling in the hotel lobby.

And make fun of each other’s French accents.

Alastor

Room set up, booze supplied and food as well presented as Alastor could manage on such short notice—maybe he should start keeping some hors d'oeuvres on hand in the ice box for times like this, Sir Pentious rarely seems to *schedule* his visits—and now to wait in the lobby for Sir Pentious's arrival.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious? Scheduling his visits?? But then what of the element of SURPRISE that he enjoyed so much? It was one of the few ways he could add a bit of rebellion to his daily life. *Spontaneity!* Inconveniencing those around him just because he could! Anyway, it had worked out well last time, so the serpent hadn't any intention of changing his way of doing things.

The doors open up, and basking in the orange and reddish hues of Hell's bleak skies was none other than the snake demon himself. He held a cane in his right hand, leaning upon it as he slithered into the Hotel properly, through the entranceway, and towards the Concierge where he could see Alastor standing there. He stops, moving his head to the side to see if there was anything behind the Radio Demon--looked clear enough.

Alastor

Alastor looks up as soon as the door opens. "Ah! Right on time!" He heads toward Sir Pentious, closing the distance between them. "So, my friend, shall we?"

It certainly is clear enough. He's out in the open and completely defenseless.

Sir Pentious

You know how cats do that thing where their pupils enlarge? It shouldn't be possible for him, but it was known to happen. Sir Pentious lowered his body, just somewhat, and wriggled in place. His grin widened considerably, and it seemed as though his fangs had *lengthened* as well. The hat is getting into it, too, the both of them matching the crazed expression.

Alastor

That gives him pause. He stops several feet shorter than he'd planned. "You're looking a little more maniacal than usual," he says warily. "Scheming something new?"

He's about to get attacked, isn't he.

Sir Pentious

Do you know how fast a Cobra's strike is, Alastor?

In the time that you might have stopped to ponder that, Sir Pentious *lunges* for him, intent on TACKLING him and rolling across the floor. BOOSH--

Alastor

Fast enough that Alastor doesn't have time to avoid it—but he grapples Sir Pentious before they've hit the ground, getting one arm around the back of his neck and the other hooked under his armpit to keep him locked in place and unable to use that arm.

"You telegraph your attacks." He's half growling, half hissing with exertion. "Saw it coming. Now *you're* trapped with *me.*"

Says the man pinned flat on his back, scrabbling to get his legs around Sir Pentious's waist, no idea how to pin fifteen feet of snake without cheating by pulling out the tentacles.

Sir Pentious

"HA!!" He CACKLES, face mere INCHES from Alastor's--although with the way his neck is, it can be very far away. But he's choosing not to do that right now. "I CHOSE TO TELEGRAPH THAT ONE! FOR I WANTED TO SSEEE WHAT YOU WOULD--NGH--DO!" He says, flicking his tongue as he attempts to. Move his stuck arm,

"YOU ARE sssssssSTRONGER THAN YOU LOOK, ACTUALLY-- BUT!!! I!!! AM *MUCH HEAVIER.*" Time to. Raise himself up. C: How do you pile drive a man who is clinging to you???

"DO YOU BEG FOR MERCY, ALASSSSSTOR!?"

Alastor

You don't, that's how! "The bigger they are, the harder they fall!" He takes advantage of the temporarily reduced weight to twist to the side, squirm butt first sideways out from under Sir Pentious, and attempt to climb up onto Sir Pentious's back without letting go of his neck. "Mercy? From you? I'd be *insulted!*"

Sir Pentious

AHKKJDFJKJSHDFK! He's being CLIMBED!!! His eyes go all CRAZY--and he SCRAMBLES, trying to reach back to claw at him!!! All of his eyes are looking at Alastor, but alas, eyes on their won can't do much. He TURNS around, left, then RIGHT--DAMMIT!! Scrabble scrabble,

"WELL, *GOOD* BECAUSE I DO NOT--NGHGHRGH-- I DO NOT KEEP *PRISONERSSSS!*"

Alastor

Alastor laughs wildly—claw away, he has a pain tolerance somewhere halfway between "professional masochist" and "dead horse."

Unfortunately, while he's got a good grip, he can't DO much from right here. He could hypothetically strangle Sir Pentious until he passes out—but then he'd be passed out. All the tricks he knows to disable someone's legs are dependent upon them having legs. He gets one leg around Sir Pentious's hips and tries to slide the other one down lower to try to restrict the top of Sir Pentious's tail—yeah no, no, that's not going to do anything.

He can at least catch one wrist and... pin it behind Sir Pentious's back with his body? Yeah! Fifty percent less clawing.

Sir Pentious

............ That's it.

That's it! You know what he's going to do? He's going to LIE DOWN. Quite suddenly. Onto his back. THWUMP. And you know what he's going to do after that? Put his entire massive tail on top of himself. Get CRUSHED, you GRINNING DEERMAN.

Alastor

Why are they falling. Did he win—?

Oh. Shit.

The impact knocks the breath out of him with a loud crackle like the sound of thunder distorting a station's broadcast. For a split second, he's stunned—but he shakes it off when he feels Sir Pentious's back pressing harder against him as he prepares to pull up his frankly enormous tail. Oh no—

He attempts to squirm out of the way while the only thing he has to worry about is the weight of Sir Pentious's relatively slender torso, even relinquishing his headlock so he can push with both arms. He *nearly* gets free—except for one leg still pinned beneath. *Ow.*

He flings an arm and his other leg on top of Sir Pentious, trying to pin his tail in place against his torso while he's nearly doubled over like this. An alligator can bite hard enough to pierce steel but once its mouth is shut it can be kept shut with duct tape; maybe, Alastor thinks hopefully, trying to hold a snake doubled up like this is the same.

Sir Pentious

HA HA! Now, he had the Radio Demon exactly where he w---- What. What was this slithery man doing? Attempting to crawl out from under him? It wouldn't work, you can't get out of this one... His tail was going to come down, and that was going to be that! Crushed under the weight of SIR PEN--

Alastor had was apparently trying to pin his tail to his body to keep him from... what exactly??? Sir Pentious' eyes widened, a goofy amount as he turned his head to look at the impressive flexibility of a man who very much did not have as many joints as he did. "ALASSSTOR." He bares his fangs, quite psychotically.

"I AM MUCH MORE *FLEXIBLE* THAN YOU ARE!"

With a CACKLE, he wriggles the non-pinned portion of his tail upwards--if he had to crush Alastor beneath him in multiple ways, then so be it!!! No mercy? No insults, then!

He brings his tail down upon the both of them, like dropping the world's heaviest spaghetti onto a plate. SLAM!

Alastor

Yipe. He presses hard against Sir Pentious's side—like someone clinging to a friend during a jump scare at a haunted house—in the unconscious hope that the blow will come down less heavily if Sir Pentious has to slam himself just as hard.

If it helps, it's hard to tell. It knocks the air out of him again. *Wheeze.* He's not going to be able to take many more blows like that—it's a miracle that one didn't dislocate something—he's *got* to escape, but how—?

Sir Pentious has his entire tail in the air. Which is no fun for Alastor's pinned leg, but it means that Sir Pentious is only making contact with the ground along his back, the rest of him balanced precariously atop. Alastor considers this a split second; then unhooks the arm and leg he's been using to pin part of Sir Pentious's tail and *shoves,* trying to force him to roll over and fall onto his side so Alastor can free his pinned leg and squirm away.

Sir Pentious

The clinging gets loud purring out of Sir Pentious--but suddenly being SHOVED does end the entirety of that. You're right, the bigger they are, the harder they do fall! He goes briefly googly eyed as he topples over onto his side. His head whips around to watch the now free deerman--

"CAN'T GO FAR ON THOSE LEGSSSSSS OF YOURSSS ALASSSTOR!" But he doesn't give chase, instead rolling over again so he can lie on his front, his elbows propping up his head as he presses his hands to his cheeks, wiggling his tail with sadistic glee. "NO HUNTSSS TODAY, I'M AFRAID, NOT FROM THIS APEX PREDATOR!"

Alastor

He laughs triumphantly. Free! He back rolls away to get a little distance between himself and Sir Pentious, then gets to his feet!

And immediately falls on his butt again. With the tail of his coat flipped up and over his head from the back roll. The leg that was pinned to the floor is numb—it's only just starting to painfully tingle along his thigh where the blood flow was cut off.

He flips his coattail off his face, peers at his leg as he gives it an experimental wiggle, and says, "We'll call it a draw."

Sir Pentious

"*HEE HEE HEE!*"

Oh, look at Penny. He looks absolutely **tickled** with himself. He's hissing out laughter between his teeth, ssss ssss ssss!

Alastor

Oh. Hold on, Alastor's a little lightheaded suddenly. It's probably from that thwacking he took and definitely not anything else. Don't look at him, he's not staring at Sir Pentious, YOU'RE staring.

Wheezing with laughter between pants of exertion, he scoots up to Sir Pentious's side again. "I'm not used to fighting snakes!" He leans on an elbow. "I think I need more practice—but I didn't do bad, you have to admit that."

Sir Pentious

~~I am looking disrespectfully.~~ Sir Pentious turns to look at him, gesturing with his index claw to Alastor's face, then gesturing to the rest of him, "YES, YOU DID DO *RATHER* WELL! I HONESTLY DO NOT WRESTLE OFTEN! NO ONE TO DO IT WITH, AND IT ISN'T EXACTLY A *GENTLEMANLY* ACTIVITY. WHY, THE LASSST PERSON I WRESTLED WITH WAS THE LADY CENTIV. OH, WE BIT THE, AHEM, *SHIT* OUT OF EACH OTHER. IT WASSSS ONE OF MY FIRSSST ENCOUNTERSSS SSSINCE JOINING THAT WEBBED SSSITE."

Sir Pentious wiggles his fingers, "I AM MOSSSTLY SURPRISED YOU DID NOT SSSNAP IN TWO! YOU ARE MUCH SSSSTRONGER THAN YOU LOOK, I BELIEVE I SAID."

Alastor

"Biting's legal?! You mean I could have just—got my jaws around your neck when you were trying to flatten me with your tail, and that would have been it?" He'd considered it for a moment, while pressed up to Sir Pentious's side (listening to him purr), before electing to escape. An indignant harrumph. "The next time you launch a surprise attack, give me the rules of combat first."

Sir Pentious

He's BEAMING from ear to ear--well. He doesn't have any ears, but you know.

"I COULD HAVE BITTEN YOU, AS WELL, BUT THEN YOU'D BE LIGHTHEADED FROM BLOODLOSS BEFORE WE EVEN GOT OUT DRINK ON, MY GOOD MAN." Wiggly fingers!!!

Alastor

~~From snake headboob to snake headboob.~~ "So is the plan to wait until I'm drunk and then bite?" With mock offense, "When my senses will be fuzzy and I can't enjoy it properly?"

Sir Pentious

He just LAUGHS, and SLAPS Alastor on the back.

"YOU *FREAK*, I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF YOU! CANNIBAL COLONY, INDEED. BUT NO-- I'M NOT BITING YOU TONIGHT, UNLESS YOUR FOOD AND DRINK ARE NOT UP TO PAR!!!" He wiggles his tongue.

Alastor

He beams as he's slapped on the back like he just received high praise. Why yes. He is a freak. He can't get enough of you either. He's not staring at the tongue, YOU'RE staring— "No promises on the food, I had to make do with what was already in the hotel!" He gets to his feet, favoring his non-tingly leg, and offers a hand to Sir Pentious. "You can tell me whether it passes muster."

Sir Pentious

He takes the hand, but he ends up just getting himself back up--if he'd pulled on Al, he'd likely have just pulled him straight down. Heavy. Sir Pentious adjusts his bowtie, tilting his head somewhat upward like a certain <:chungo:738987082118201486> smug animal, "WELL, WELL, IT CANNOT BE HELPED. IN ALL HONESSSSTY, I CAME TO GET HAMMERED WITH MY BESSST MATE."

With a movement of his arms, he gestures towards the stairs, "LEAD ON, CHUM."

Alastor

"You're helping." He flings an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and leans on him to get the weight off his still-tingly leg. "I feel like I've just been injured in the trenches." He conjures up an old marching song to the rhythm of his walking and sings along to it, "*Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag, and smile, smile, smile~!*"

Sir Pentious

He lowers his hood a bit more to avoid smacking the deerman in his face. Again. For the upteenth time--he doesn't know the number, but he sure will chuckle along. "OH, THAT'SSS RIGHT, YOU WERE IN ONE OF THE WARSSS, WEREN'T YOU? I COULD HAVE SSSSWORN YOU MENTIONED THAT." Sure, he'll help you, but he has to lower himself a great deal--he's longer now than he used to be! "YOU MIGHT AS WELL SIT ON MY TAIL, I'LL TAKE YOU UP... BUT I DON'T KNOW WHICH ROOM YOU'VE DESIGNATED."

Alastor

"I was in the *great* one, in fact! It didn't feel too great from the front, but they didn't poll the troops before naming it."

He snorts at the offer. "And me without my cowboy hat. I'd look ridiculous, perched on you with my feet pulled up." But he glances back at the length of Sir Pentious's tail consideringly. Looking ridiculous isn't an automatic dealbreaker.

But he shakes his head. "No, no! I'd rather keep malingering from up here." He resumes humming cheerily. The poor soldier, wounded in action.

Sir Pentious

"YOU COULD ALWAYS RIDE SIDE-SADDLE, BUT IN MY OPINION, YOU ALWAYS LOOK RIDICULOUS." Prrr prrr. He looks so pleased with himself. "THE *GREAT* WAR... I DO NOT ENVY THAT, NOT IN THE LEASSSST." A chuckle, "AS MUCH AS I ENJOY CHAOS AND BLOODSHED, I'D MUCH RATHER NOT BE ON THE FRONT LINESSSS. NOT MY EXPERTISE!"

Alastor

He unconsciously llllleans a little more to feel the purring against his side. Good vibrations.

"It's not mine either." He grimaces. "But! Who wants to talk about the war! It was already old news a hundred years ago!" He points the direction to turn at the top of the stairs.

Sir Pentious

He's tempted to just LIFT Alastor up, but he's tired after their rough housing. Yes, that was the reason. Turning...

"TRUE ENOUGH. WHY, I DIED ABOUT FORTY YEARS BEFORE IT, GIVE OR TAKE! NO NEED TO THINK ABOUT IT, BUT SSSTILL. HOW INTERESSSTING IT WOULD HAVE BEEN IF I HAD BEEN ABLE TO TRAVEL TO AMERICA, LIKE I HAD EVENTUALLY PLANNED. HAD I NOT DIED SSSO SSSUDDENLY, I WONDER IF WE WOULD HAVE MET SSSOMEHOW."

... A pause, "OH. RIGHT. WRONG VERSION! HA." He clears his throat, *where's the booze.*

Alastor

*Wrong version.* The same thought had hit him a moment faster than Sir Pentious, as he talked about never having been to America—when the version Alastor had known had had, as far as historians could work out, his entire career in the States.

He squeezes Sir Pentious's shoulders a little and plays along with the What If scenario. "I was born a couple decades after you died. By the time I would have been old enough to appreciate a meeting, you'd probably be well into retirement!" He laughs. "My molher told me that when she was a child, when you—*our* you, rather—were targeting American port cities, her family was making plans to migrate en masse inland to somewhere you wouldn't consider strategically valuable enough to hit—maybe join the Oklahoma land rushes, it was relatively close and they knew several other Black families going. But then you died and they stuck around in New Orleans."

He points at a door, here it is. "So, if you *had* come to America after '88—my mother might have ended up in Oklahoma while my father stayed in Louisiana and poor little Alastor would never have been born!"

Sir Pentious

He respects being humored without Alastor drawing too much attention to it. He listened with intent, trying to imagine the chaos his doppelganger sowed upon the port cities. A contented Cobra sigh, raspy and terrifying.

"*POOR* LITTLE ALASTOR! WHAT A SSSENTENCE THAT ISSS. YESSS, TOO RIGHT, I AM *MUCH* OLDER THAN YOU, CHUM. NOT THAT THAT KIND OF THING MATTERSSSS *HERE.* I'M OLDER THAN YOUR RAG-TAG POSSE PUT TOGETHER!" A chuckle.

He'll offer his arm for the Radio Demon, assuming his leg isn't back to its functional self, "YOU KNOW, MY FATHER WAS AMERICAN. FROM TENNESSEE. HE CAME OVER OUR WAYS ABOUT..." Hmm. Face of strained thought, "WELL, I'D SSSAY FIVE YEARS BEFORE HE MET MY MOTHER. HE CAME LOOKING FOR WORK, AND TO GET AWAY FROM THE *TENSIONS* IN THE SSSTATESSS, I IMAGINE. HE NEVER REALLY TALKED MUCH ABOUT HIMSELF, NOT TO ME."

Alastor

He's about to argue—Rosie's probably older than Sir Pentious several times over—but then he realizes that the "rag-tag posse" Sir Pentious is referring to is probably the hotel crew. "Ha! I don't know, Husk and I put together might have you beat, he's older than he looks."

His leg's just about back in working order, but that's not going to stop him from taking the offered arm. "Really! Half American, are you! I never would have guessed. I've never been to Tennessee—but I always meant to go, I had a pen pal in Memphis, brilliant occultist." He opens the door, tada. It's set up exactly the same as the last room they hung out in, booze and food waiting over on the expected table.

Sir Pentious

Oh excellent. He grins, showing off those sharp yellow teeth of his again, and pats his coat down. Good, good, he still has a few cigarettes on hand.

In Sir Pentious slithers, heading to the table immediately to claim dibs on a bottle of bourbon. He almost *nuzzles* it, it's been a while since he drank enough to get silly!

"YESS, HALF AMERICAN. I GENERALLY KEEP IT ON THE DOWNLOW, SSSINCE I BARELY KNOW MUCH ABOUT YOUR COUNTRY... OTHER THAN IT BEING LOUD ENOUGH TO HEAR ACROSS THE OCEAN, HA!"

Alastor

And here Alastor had expected him to go for brandy again.

"Ha! Guilty as charged and proud of it!" He unbuttons his coat and shrugs it off before he sits, asking, "You don't mind, do you? Maybe *you* can't sweat, but I can and I just wrestled an anaconda."

The food on offer is a weird hodgepodge of whatever Alastor could find that he thought met Sir Pentious's culinary preferences and that didn't come in plastic wrappers: French onion soup (leftover, but no need to mention that), a few rolls and a loaf of sourdough he popped into a nearby bakery to shamelessly steal, some smoked salmon—he gestures at it as the one item on display that most disappoints him, "I would have made *baked* salmon to go better with the soup if I'd known you were visiting"—and some cubes of beef he'd quickly seared, just barely on the cooked side of rare, tossed cheekily in a sugar bowl next to the French onion soup as if they were sugar cubes to be dropped into tea. With some random jams and a couple jars of mustard to compensate for the—by Alastor's standards—rather slim selection.

Sir Pentious

For a few seconds, Sir Pentious thought that Alastor was asking him if he minded that he was American. Once the sentence catches up, he waves a hand.

"NO, I DON'T MIND. I WOULD IF YOU WEREN'T WEARING ANYTHING UNDERNEATH THAT JACKET OF YOURSSSS." what a grin.

He's going to look over the selection, and cover his mouth as he looks a little.. Well! Sir Pentious didn't want to be *rude.*

"AH, AND HERE I SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT SANDWICHESSSS! I'M INTERESTED IN YOUR MEAT CUBES." Hee hee.

Alastor

He looks over the display ruefully. "I should have had sandwich meat on hand. Consider the cubes yours!" He pulls the soup bowl over, this is his now. Doesn't even need to scoop some out of the serving bowl now, does he? "*Next time,* I *insist* on six hours' warning before you come over for a picnic. There's no greater crime than for a host to let his guest go hungry!" Says the man guilty of crimes like "murder" and "eating people."

Sir Pentious

Prr. He swoops his hood over his shoulder, playing with it idly and grinning.

"VERY WELL, ALASTOR. I WON'T DUMP ANYMORE SSSURPRISE, LASSSST MINUTE VISITSSSS UPON YOU, UNLESS THERE'SSS NO PROMISE OF FOOD TO BE SSSERVED!"

It was funny to show up unannounced, but having barely any food to show for it did cut down on that food. He takes a seat on the couch, still clutching the bourbon.

"ALL THINGSSS CONSSSSIDERED, YOU DIDN'T DO TOO BAD!"

Alastor

“Even then, unless we’re going out, I’d like to have *something* edible on hand! My mother would fly down from Heaven to give me an earful if she found out I’d invited a friend into my home without feeding him—and the hotel’s full of beds and I’m in it daily, so it counts as a ‘home’ on a technicality.”

He waves off the faint praise, but not without his chest puffing up a little. He picks up a spoon and points at the soup. “Not a fan of French onion soup, I take it?”

Sir Pentious

He laughs, "OH, IT WOULDN'T BE *HELL* SHE'D HAVE A PROBLEM WITH, EH? MOSSST ASSUREDLY YOUR HOSSST ABILITIESSS." He laughs through his teeth.

"OH, THE SOUP? I HAVEN'T THOUGHT TO CHECK IT YET, BUT MEAT IS WHAT I'M MOSSSST IN THE MOOD FOR."

Alastor

Cue the studio audience laughter. “Damnation is no excuse for starving a guest!”

Alastor brightens. He’d thought that Sir Pentious’s disappointment was due to his opinion of the available offerings, but maybe it was only the quantity. He pushes the soup’s serving bowl back to the middle and gestures at the two smaller empty bowls he’d supplied. “It’s all onions, butter, and cheese—but I thought you might want meat in it! It pairs best with venison, but in a pinch beef will do fine.” (A lot of the side dishes Alastor makes pair best with venison. Is it because he thinks everything pairs best with venison or is it because he’s biased toward cooking foods he can have with venison? Who can say.) “I recommend tossing a few cubes in, that’s what they’re there for. It’s excellent for dipping bread in, too. Usually toast, but soft bread’s fine.”

Sir Pentious

A brief face scrunch at the mention of toast. Sir Pentious doesn't bother with the smaller serving bowls, instead taking a spoon and dipping it into the soup.

"I HATE TOAST. IT IS TOO CRUNCHY, TOO *BRITTLE.* THOUGH I NEVER HAD A PROPER *TOASSSSTER* FOR THAT KIND OF THING."

Alastor

“You may notice I didn’t bring toast. After all, we know well that *crumbly* is for the *lower class!*” No, he’s never going to forget that Sir Pentious said that.

Sir Pentious

He *cackles*, and puts the spoonful in his mouth. Wow, he didn't recoil this time! Instead he actually swallows it down, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"NOT BAD AT ALL, ALASSSTOR."

Alastor

He’s going to add that sand-sized grain of gold to the jar in which he collects words of positive affirmation from Sir Pentious. “I’ll keep it in my recipe book!” Apparently they’re eating straight out of the serving bowl. He gets a slice of sourdough and dips it into the bowl, like it’s some kind of au jus/fondue. “It uses a beef stock, so it still tastes rather meaty even without any actual meat.”

Sir Pentious

Snickering through his teeth, he moves to drop a few meat cubes into the soup. Sploot.

"THAT'SSS A FUN THING TO DO TO THE *HERBIVORES,* WOULDN'T YOU SSSSAY? NYA HA HA!"

Alastor

He laughs at the thought. “I don’t get along very well with vegetarians—but oh, wouldn’t that make them hopping mad! I’ll keep it in mind if I ever need to really insult one.”

Sir Pentious

"*SSS SSS SSS!*" OH, he is GIGGLY today! You're making him laugh so much, Alastor. But anyway, time to try the meat with the soup.... Nomf....

"MM, VERY WELL PREPARED. JUSSSST THE WAY I LIKE IT."

Alastor

He’s noticed! And every time it makes his dead heart flutter. “Good! I do believe I’m getting your tastes figured out.” As a reward for a job well done, he’s grabbing one of the meat chunks the next time he dips his bread in the bowl.

Sir Pentious

BRIEFLY BRISTLES. He fights the urge to be selfish, actually... Usually he would yell and fuss!

But he doesn't. Instead, he just WATCHES ALASTOR INTENTLY.

Alastor

Alastor watches Sir Pentious watch him intently. “... I *cooked* these, I can have one.”

Sir Pentious

"YES." He leans on his chin on his hands, still watching him with an ever growing grin! What a brat.

Alastor

Then he’s going to chew EXTRA SLOWLY, so Sir Pentious KNOWS that he’s savoring it.

Sir Pentious

SHIT EATING GRIN. What is wrong with this man. Finally he turns off of this nonsense, and reaches for a roll to bite into. Nomf.

Alastor

Alastor huffs, and takes another dip of the soup. "So, what brings you by so suddenly? A desperate desire to grind my smile into the floor, or something else?"

Sir Pentious

A blink! And Sir Pentious sits up straighter, adjusting his (used to be Al's) bowtie. "WELL, NO, NOT EXACTLY. I DID NOT HAVE THE CHANCE TO SSSSIT WITH YOU SSSO MUCH LASSSST TIME.... AND." His hand crawls across the table, and takes Alastor's, "SSSORRY, ABOUT LASSSST TIME. I MISSED YOU! I WANTED TO TALK AND TOUCH AND DRINK, BUT THINGSSSS WERE SSSO TENSE BEFORE. GAVE ME A RIGHT *SSSTOMACHACHE*."

Alastor

So it was intentional? Alastor's actually relieved to hear it. He'd been afraid that the reason they'd never touched was because Alastor had never initiated—that Sir Pentious didn't *want* to unless Alastor was pushing into his space.

Alastor immediately squeezes Sir Pentious's hand in relief. And then, just, casually, relocates himself to sit closer to Sir Pentious. Not quite close enough to touch shoulders, but enough to make clear that Sir Pentious *totally could* if he *wants* to. Hint hint. "I missed you too!" He gives Sir Pentious a wan smile, then glances away, focused on the table. "Why was it tense?" Unspoken: *what did I do?* "I know why at the *end,* but... that was the end. It doesn't explain the rest of the movie."

Sir Pentious

And touch shoulders he *does*, bumping against Alastor's with his own, still holding that hand as he taps his talons against it to a melody that wasn't playing. "AH, WELL... THAT'SS DUE TO A MISSSSCONCEPTION THAT VALERA HAD ACQUIRED ABOUT YOU, BACK WHEN YOU WERE A TAD *SSSNIPPY* WITH HER OVER THE MUSICAL CHOICESSS. YOU SSEE AT THE TIME, I WANTED TO HEAR HER REASONING."

Sir Pentious waves a hand, "SHE HAD THISS THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE *JEALOUSS* OVER HOW I PRIORITIZED HER INSSTEAD OF YOU! BUT, WELL, I DID NOT THINK THAT SSSOUNDED LIKE YOU AT ALL. OUR RELATIONSHIP ISSN'T LIKE THAT..." Another hand squeeze, "I ASSURE YOU THAT IT ISSS ALL SAID AND DONE, AND SHE HASS SINCE ADMITTED TO HER MISSCONCEPTIONSS. SHE WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU, AS I FIGURED. BUT DURING THE MOVIE, I FEARED THAT JEALOUSSSSY LINGERED IN THE AIR, AND A CERTAIN TENSENESSSSSS BETWEEN YOU BOTH, IT ALL CAME TO A HEAD WHEN THE ARGUMENT SSSTARTED."

A sigh, and he keeps hold of Alastor's hand, but uses his other to pat it, "PARANOIA CAN MAKE FOOLSSSS OF USS ALL. IT HASS BEEN DEALT WITH, REGARDLESS! WE SSSPOKE AT LENGTH ABOUT IT, AND I AM CONFIDENT THAT SHE NO LONGER HASS THOSE MISCONCEPTIONSS ABOUT YOU, ALASSTOR." He beams with pride.

Alastor

A surge of anger pulses through Alastor. "Oh, so she talked to you about that." And in the process made Alastor look bad enough that Sir Pentious hadn't even wanted to touch him. Who was the one acting jealous—

Stop. It was resolved. Valera had apparently admitted her error to Sir Pentious, things were fine now.

"Well. If she didn't already tell you herself, I was snippy *because* of her musical choices. Of every person she picked songs for, I was the only one she singled out to receive songs that, by her own admission, I wouldn't like!" A pause. "Which *sounds* insignificant, but coming from one aficionado of musical theater to another, it's a grave insult! Particularly since our both being in musical theater means she *shares* my tastes. Honestly, I'm amazed she thought that thing had anything to do with you." He bumps Sir Pentious's shoulder. "What kind of a poor friend would I be if I got jealous over a man spending time with his own fiancée! I can assure you that all the tension was one-sided."

Sir Pentious

"IN TRUTH, I HAVEN'T THE FOGGIEST WHAT YOU TWO TALKED ABOUT--I DECIDED IT WASSN'T ANY OF MY BUSINESS! BEING CAUGHT BETWEEN THAT WAS SSOMETHING I'D NOT LIKE A REPEAT OF." An uneasy smile, but he bumps right back. "YESS, YOU AND VALERA BOTH HAVE QUITE A LOT OF MUSICAL TASSSSTESSS IN COMMON! SSSUPPOSE IT WAS SSIMPLY PARANOIA GETTING TO HER." He clears his throat, "I KNOW THE FEELING. IT CONVINCESSS MYSELF OF MADNESS AND SSPINSS LIESS AS THE TRUTH WITH SSSUCH *CHARISMA.*... AND MAKESS MONSSTERSS OF THE ONESS I CARE ABOUT."

Oh hey LOOK AT THE TIME! It's time to pour himself some bourbon.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious doesn't want to be in the middle, then Alastor has no right to drag him back in; the sentences he'd been lining up to try to explain his side die in his throat. And anger flares back up again—it's all well and good that Valera apparently resolved it, but it sits like a lump in his gut that the only narrative of the situation that lives in Sir Pentious's head is whatever Valera deigned to tell him. It's harder this time to swallow the anger down.

He wrestles with his words, trying to pare everything he wants to say down to something small enough to squeeze out without adding unduly to Sir Pentious's burden, "I don't know what she told you—or has *been* telling you—but after our conversation, I can fairly confidently state that she's been wrong about... just about *everything* she's thought about me for months." He grimaces. "I wish I could say more than that, but I don't know what all she claimed about me—she didn't mention that she'd said anything to you at all! And I'm not going to ask."

He picks up a glass and holds it out. Give him some too.

Sir Pentious

He pours bourbon for Alastor, as well, and studies the deerman's expression.

"WELL, PERHAPSS YOU CAN SHED SSSOME LIGHT ON YOUR PART, ALASSSTOR? BECAUSE WHAT I MENTIONED BEFORE, WITH HER ASSUMING THAT YOU WERE JEALOUS, WELL THAT WAS THE FIRSSST I'D HEARD OF IT! WHICH WASS WHY I WAS CAUGHT OFF GUARD. I DIDN'T HOLD YOU OR PLAY WITH YOU AS USUAL, BECAUSE I HAD SSSSURMISED THAT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN UPSSSETTING TO *HER*... ALTHOUGH WHEN I MENTIONED IT TO HER, SHE SSSEEMED UPSSET THAT I'D THOUGHT TO DO THAT AT ALL."

His tongue hangs out like he's exhausted, "SSO MY EFFORTSS TO QUELL A SSSITUATION I DID NOT UNDERSSSTAND CLEARLY DID NOT DO MUCH, EXCEPT MAKE YOU FEEL UNWANTED, I IMAGINE."

Alastor

Half the tension leaks out of him as the implicit gag order is lifted, he can explain his side now.

"You imagined correctly." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Truth be told, I... well, I spent half the movie wondering if I'd said something wrong, or if you'd *never* wanted to touch me and I just somehow hadn't noticed because I'd always been the one to initiate it. I was sure that couldn't be true, I try not to initiate, but... well, like you said, paranoia makes monsters." He leaves it unstated that in this case, the one paranoia had made a monster of was himself.

"She—somehow got it into her head that every single thing I said and did to her was loaded down with a subtext of veiled hostility and threats. Which is ludicrous! Not only do I have nothing against her, but I wanted to be her friend! Which is a rare occurrence! I don't meet many people that make me go, 'Now, *there's* someone who'd fit perfectly into my little social circle!' I don't put in an effort that often! And when I do, it's..." He struggles with his words for a moment. "I'm usually—*good* at it. *Very* good at it. I used to be, anyway."

He pulls his hand back so he can cross his arms tightly, compensating by leaning more heavily on Sir Pentious. This was easier to talk about when he was angry. Now, he finds, it just hurts.

Sir Pentious

Oh... Sir Pentious tilts his head as Alastor speaks, considering his own thoughts. Should he tell him his own *guesses* as to why? or would that just make everything worse? It was hard to say--Valera and Alastor were both quite *sensitive* in their own ways. Sometimes, he'd say something that would get a negative reaction out of them and it would take the serpent a moment to reevaluate what he said and how it could have affected them!

So, for the moment... he slides his tail around the back of Alastor, puts an arm around his shoulders, and pulls the Radio Demon to his side. He'd rest his chin on Al's head, but he wasn't looking to *stab himself through the skull* with those antennae.

"YOU HAVE A BIT OF A REPUTATION, YOU KNOW. AT LEASSST DOWN HERE. YES, IT ISSS TRUE THAT VALERA DOES NOT HAVE THAT SSSAME UNDERSSTANDING BUT... PERHAPSSS MY PARANOID DELUSIONSS FROM MONTHSSS AGO SSANK INTO HER UNDERSTANDING. OR! PERHAPSS IT'S YOUR SMILE, YOUR SSSTATIC GRIN!"

He takes out his phone, and types in a sentence. "Hello, stinky." he types into it, and then adds a simple :) smiley face, "LOOK AT THISSS, ALASTOR. ARE YOU AWARE OF THISSS PHENOMENON?"

Alastor

He starts slightly when he feels himself being embraced. Is—is he being... comforted? It feels weird. He leans into it.

He groans. "I know I do." There are very few things he regrets, but his rampage when he arrived in Hell is constantly hovering on the verge of making the list. Nothing he's done or refrained from doing since then has ever let him move past it. "But she doesn't have that context! She shouldn't, anyway."

Alastor looks at the example, is immediately self-conscious, and lightly elbows Sir Pentious. "You'd better not be mixing a jab in with your example, I smelled fine before you got me sweaty." He'd managed to squeeze in a quick shower amidst scrambling for food. He'd been showering a lot more since he'd started hanging out with Sir Pentious. "Yes, I know, smile when you insult someone and it's all the more biting. I know that! I understand the nuances and subtleties to a smile! You don't wear the same facial expression for eighty-seven years without learning its limitations inside and out! I'm *good* at telegraphing whether I like or despise someone, when I want to. And I wanted to."

Sir Pentious

"SSS, SSS, SSS!" Sir Pentious snickers through his teeth, and flicks one of Alastor's ears with a talon, "YOU DON'T SSSMELL. I'D BE ABLE TO TASTE IT ALREADY!" Weird thing to say but he is a snake. He swivels is head around, long neck allowing him to look Alastor around the front without moving the rest of his body. You're friends with a *noodle*, Alastor.

"WHEN WE FIRSSSST BEGAN MEETING, EVEN AFTER THE LETTERSSSS AND THE PROMISSSSESSSS... IT TOOK ME SSSOME TIME TO FEEL COMFORTABLE AROUND YOU, AND IT WASSS BECAUSE I COULDN'T HELP BUT READ ALL OF YOUR SSSMILESS, DESSPITE YOUR MOVEMENTSS AND YOUR VOICE, AS *A THREAT.*" He gestures to his phone again, "TAKE THISSS SMILEY FOR EXAMPLE. YOU WOULD THINK THAT THISSS SMILEY FACE WOULD CREATE A SSSENSE OF CAMRADERIE AMONGSST THE ONLINE TEXTING COMMUNITIESSS, BUT APPARENTLY, IT ONLY CREATESSS A SSSENSE OF *DREAD.* A SSORT OF... PASSIVE AGGRESSION!"

He leans back a bit, tapping a claw to one of his fangs, "AND THAT COULD VERY WELL BE WHY, ALASSSTOR. SHE MUSSST THINK THAT YOUR SSSMILEY FACE IS A THREAT, IN HER MIND! I KNOW WHEN I SSMILE AS YOU DO, IT ISSS USUALLY BECAUSE I WANT TO SHOW OFF MY *TEETH.*" And he does it right then, too, beaming.

Alastor

"I *know!* The fact that it's threatening is one of the reasons I do it! But I can get *past* that instinctive reaction with most people when I choose to! Unless I'm just—just... losing my edge."

He sighs. He looks tired.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious puts the phone away--or in this case just fumbles it briefly and lets it bounce on the table. It's fine. He clears his throat, "WELL, I KNOW THISS MUCH... I BECAME *MUCH* MORE ABLE TO TRUSST YOU WHEN I COULD *TOUCH* YOU, ALASSSTOR." All of his eyes are looking away, "USUALLY I HATE THAT KIND OF THING BUT... PERHAPSSS IT MADE YOU MORE *REAL* TO ME." To punctuate his thought, he takes hold of Alastor's hand again and squeezes it.

"VALERA AND I HIT IT OFF RATHER WELL, BUT ONLY AFTER WE TOUCHED... AND SHE AND I ARE VERY ALIKE, AS WELL, IN OUR WAYSSS.... PERHAPSSS THAT'SS THE KEY!" He laughs behind a hand, "NOW I AM NOT SSSSUGGESTING YOU GO AND FONDLE MY WIFE, ALASSSTOR, BUT PERHAPSSS OFFERING HER YOUR HAND MIGHT EASE SSSOME OF HER WORRIES?"

Alastor

He squeezes Sir Pentious's hand, glad to have it back. "More real?" He laughs weakly. "What was I before then, a ghost? A disembodied voice in a box?"

The corners of his mouth curl down. "It's a ridiculous price to pay just to prove I don't detest her! And I *have* held her hand before—apparently it didn't do any good."

Sir Pentious

"PERHAPSSS YOU SHOULD CONSIDER GROWLING SSCALESS AND LOSING THOSE LEGSSS OF YOURS. MIGHT I SSUGGESST SWAPPING THEM OUT FOR A TAIL INSSSTEAD? HA HA!" He purrs, taking hold of his glass.

Alastor

"Oh, I couldn't do that! I'd miss tap dancing and shaving too much." Laugh track. He's gonna just, subtle cuddle further into that purr. And slide his free arm around Sir Pentious. Alastor's got Sir Pentious's tail around him, reciprocating with an arm is fair game, right? He hopes so. It feels nice.

Sir Pentious

He's not about to push him away, anyway. Sir Pentious' tongue flicks out, wiggling in front of Alastor's face before he sucks it back in, "I FEEL FOR YOU, ALASSTOR, THAT THINGSSS ARE *BUMPY*. I DON'T REALLY KNOW THE FIX--IT ISSN'T LIKE ADJUSTING UNEVEN BOLTS OR REBUILDING THE BOILER ROOM FROM SSSSCRATCH BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL OWNERS OF THIS BUILDING HAD ZERO IDEA WHAT THEY WERE DOING." Ahem, "*PEOPLE* AREN'T MY EXPERTISE, NOT AT ALL. I THINK, IT COULD JUSST BE, THAT VALERA MAY NEED TO FIGURE YOU OUT ON HER OWN, PREFERABLY WITHOUT HURTING HERSSSELF OR YOU."

Alastor

"There's nothing *to* fix." Alastor shrugs ruefully. "She misunderstood; I explained; now she doesn't misunderstand. There's nothing else to do about it now."

Sir Pentious

"YOU COULD ALWAYS BREAK INTO SSSONG, I'VE HEARD THAT HELPS." He beams, knocking his glass against Alastor's a touch.

Alastor

He grimaces more, then shifts enough to put his glass on the table out of range before curling back up. He doesn't want to drink right now.

"The issue is—It's—To use your metaphor, it's fine to fix a boiler that some other incompetent idiot built—but what if the boiler that breaks down is one *you* designed and built? It doesn't matter that you can fix it, that doesn't solve the real problem—that you messed it up in the first place. You pride yourself as an engineer and inventor, what does it say about you if you ruined a mere, simple boiler?"

Sir Pentious

When Alastor curls back up, it dawns on Sir Pentious suddenly that they were actually talking very seriously about this. It wasn't that he was totally oblivious, but it clearly stopped being a discussion, and now, the Hellish Gentleman had to find some way to comfort his friend. Of all the scenarios to find himself in, comforting the Radio Demon had never really crossed his mind. ... Or had it? He did want to go drinking with Alastor, after all. Hmm.

He gets a little quiet, placing his own glass against the table and leaning back. Time to sink down to the floor, taking the deerman with him. "...I'd argue that--I have more experience with *that* particular example than *you* do, Alassstor. The leak is always in the same place, no matter how many timessss I repair it."

Alastor

Oh, okay, they're sliding off the couch now. Down they go. He repositions himself once they're on the floor.

He wasn't expecting to *look* for comfort from Sir Pentious. He's not even sure that *is* what he's doing—his only goal had been to make himself understood, nothing more. But here they are.

"Well, that's... Everyone has their weak points, of course. But this *isn't* one of mine. At least, it hasn't been before. So I can't help but wonder if I..." He trails off. "I think I'm repeating myself. I apologize, I'm sure that's boring."

Sir Pentious

"ALASSSTOR, IF I THOUGHT YOU WERE BORING, I WOULD HAVE *LEFT* ALREADY!" And he flicks his ear again, "I AM *KIDDING.* I DON'T MIND TALKING TO YOU ABOUT THISSS, BUT I DO KNOW THAT I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH HELP I CAN *BE.* I AM SSSTILL NAVIGATING MYSELF THROUGH ALL OF THIS... IT'SS HARD TO KNOW WHAT TO DO WHEN THINGSSS YOU WORK ON BREAK! BUT I HAVE LEARNED THAT PEOPLE ARE NOT LIKE *MACHINESSS*, FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE."

He squeezes that hand again, "TELL YOU WHAT! I WILL ASSSK VALERA FOR YOU! HOW ABOUT THAT?"

Alastor

Alastor doesn't laugh. He knows it's true, even if Sir Pentious doesn't. Of course they wouldn't be friends if Alastor was boring. If he was boring, he wouldn't even be *Alastor* anymore.

"No. There's nothing you need to ask her, what could you possibly ask her? It—I'm hardly even talking about Valera at this point, this has nothing to *do* with her except that she inadvertently uncovered a problem I already suspected!"

Sir Pentious

His face falls at that-- and he looks in a different direction. A short inhale with a bit of a louder *exhale...* He didn't know what Alastor was going on about, overall, due to him not being as talkative as usual.... so Sir Pentious just curls around him, allowing Alastor to essentially sit on the cinnamon roll that was Sir Pentious.

"WELL, I AM NOT DEVELOPING TELEPATHY ANY TIME SSSOON, MAN. IS HELL GETTING TO YOU, AFTER A HUNDRED YEARSSS?"

Alastor

"*Exactly!* That's exactly it!" He sits up a little to look at Sir Pentious directly. "*Is* it getting to me?! Has it—has it been getting to me since the day I arrived? I'm a *radio host*, damn it, people *like* me, they've *always* liked me—but they've *never* liked me in Hell, because I—I precluded the possibility of that on my very first day! I can say it was my own fault, but I, I don't think it entirely *was*, I think that's what Hell *does,* it conspires around you to make you... trip and stumble into doing whatever it is that will make them suffer the most, tricks you into orchestrating your own divine punishment. And my worst—part of my worst punishment would be—*losing* that! Being a radio host! All my charisma, my charm, everything my audience loved me for! I already lost my audience, I took care of that my first day, but what about the rest of it? That likability? I always *feel* the weight of Hell on me, I don't think *everyone* feels it so clearly but I do, I've always been more sensitive to things like that—I think Hell takes something from us, on a spiritual level, slowly, over time. What if this is what it's been taking from me? What if it's going to leave me a—a hackneyed, cheesy, boring... has-been?"

He pauses to take a breath.

Then he winces. "Was that too much?"

Sir Pentious

Oh! Hmm. Sir Pentious sits up at that, though in his efforts he may have disturbed Alastor a little- he brings a hand to his chin in thought, mulling over what the other rambled on and on about. That did seem to allign with his own misgivings about Hell--could they even be called that? Hell certainly sucked! It may not have lined up with the scriptures, but it sure did feel *awful all the time.* No matter how high one climbed, there'd always be something to knock them down.

"FOR ALL THE INVENTING I'VE DONE, FOR ALL THE LEAPSSS AND BOUNDSSS I'VE MADE WITH MY PROWESS AS AN INVENTOR, NOBODY EVER SSSEEEMED TO *CARE* DOWN HERE. I CONTINUED AT IT, OVER AND *OVER* AGAIN, IN TIRELESS PURSUIT OF BEING RECOGNIZED, OF BEING KNOWN!! AND..." A huff, "VERY FEW RECOGNIZE IT, VERY FEW PEOPLE SSSEEM TO GIVE ANY KIND OF *DAMN*. AND NOT TO MENTION ALL OF THE... *ROADBLOCKS*, AS IT WERE... EVERY PERSON WHO KNOCKED ME DOWN SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN DESIGNED PERSONALLY FOR ME! TO HIT ME WHERE IT *HURT MOST.*"

He lies back down, flopping back with his arms out. "... I'D JUST ABOUT GIVEN UP, ALASSTOR. AND THEN.... VALERA CAME INTO MY LIFE, AND THEN I MET YOU, AND... IT'SSS AS IF THINGSSS HAVE PURPOSE AGAIN. I CAN FEEL MY WILL RETURNING--BUT NOT JUSSST THAT... I AM *ACTUALLY* EXCITED TO BLOW UP THIS PUTRID SHITHOLE AND REMAKE IT IN MY IMAGE!!! I FEEL LIKE I HAVE SO MANY OPTIONSSS!"

Sir Pentious sits up a bit once more, looking at the Radio Demon with a smile--not his usual aggressive grin, but a kind smile. "I DON'T THINK OF YOU AS SSOME KIND OF 'HAS-BEEN'-- YOU'VE LIKELY JUST GOT TO FIND YOUR NEW AUDIENCE. AND YOU FOUND ME!!! I TUNE IN ALL THE TIME."

Alastor

He's on pins and needles until Sir Pentious starts talking, not sure if the pile of decades-old fears he'd just dumped on Sir Pentious was going to drive him off. (Is Alastor still worth being friends with if he's not just the two-dimensional entertainment, if he has worries too? Other people might think so—but will Sir Pentious?)

And then Sir Pentious starts talking, and Alastor is spellbound. He has to keep stopping himself from interrupting to agree—because yes, he's observed the exact same thing for decades from watching his own Sir Pentious, yes, he does believe that people are specifically set on collision courses with each other in order to hurt each other as much as possible—so he just nods along enthusiastically to everything he agrees with.

*Purpose.* Alastor takes Sir Pentious's hand again, squeezing it. "I've felt... somewhat the same. I know you don't think much of my own lack of ambition, and I truly don't have any interest in taking over Hell, but—I hope I don't sound too sentimental when I say that watching *you* pursue the crown... it's always been inspiring." His smile's unusually self-conscious.

"Maybe a new audience is all I need. Truth be told, that's the real reason I agreed to Charlie and Vaggie's ridiculous "blog" idea—I was *desperate* for an audience. I suppose at least some good's come of it." He laughs ruefully.

"And yet... I can't quite shake the thought that the only reason the stars aligned to let us be friends is so that some higher power can use it to break us someday." He looks away. "I—sincerely believe—and have for *years*—that I'm one of the people that were designed to hit you where it hurt most. And I'm referring to our respective, parallel... your me and my you. I hope it's not the case with *us.* But if it is, are we going to be able to tell before it's too late?"

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious brushes his hood back behind his head, then puts both arms around Alastor only to pull him in close and LIE on him. Squish. You get loud Cobra breathing as he mulls over what's said. "I DON'T KNOW--YOU SSSSOUND PARANOID, PERHAPSSS YOU NEED TO RELAX." He beams, "BUT HONESTLY, I DON'T KNOW. I'M... TIRED OF WORRYING ABOUT IT!! I WANT TO... JUSST SSEE, I SSSUPPOSE. I'VE HAD FUN, YOU KNOW. EXPERIENCING THINGSSS AGAIN. AND BEING *EXCITED* TO WAKE UP. IT'SS... ...."

He gets a little quiet again, thinking to those nights of anguish, of screaming and dragging his claws through his own scales. A shake of his head, "WELL, IT'SS REFRESHING, TO SSAY THE LEASST. AND I'M TIRED OF BEING AFRAID OF WHAT *COULD* BE."

Alastor

*Squish.* He hugs Sir Pentious back tightly. "Is it really paranoia when we're in a prison divinely designed to serve as eternal torment?"

But Sir Pentious has a point—Alastor is tired of worrying about it, too. He's tired of the guilt and the grief and the regrets. "I hear you." He holds on a little tighter. "I—haven't had much worth waking up for in a long time, either. It's a nice change."

Sir Pentious

"YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS A NICE CHANGE?"

Sir Pentious slaps at the table blindly before giving up, "I WAS GOING TO SAY DRINKING WITH A FRIEND! BUT. I COULDN'T REACH,"

Alastor

Alastor laughs, tries to reach, and finds he's not going to do any better as long as Sir Pentious is pinning him down. "Oh, well. It can wait."

Sir Pentious

Prr prr. Oh well. He's gonna stay like this a little longer until....

"HASSS BEEN.... HAAZZZ.... *OH.* IS THAT WHY THE SIGN SAYS THAT? *HA!*"

Alastor

Ding ding ding. "Isn't that what *most* of the damned are? People who used to *be* something, and aren't anymore? Anyone who comes looking for redemption has just given up on trying to make something of themselves in Hell, too!"

Sir Pentious

"I CAN'T TELL IF IT'SSSS A SSSELF BURN OR NOT, ALASSSTOR.... BUT AT THE VERY LEAST, REDEMPTION! *PAH.* IT COULD NEVER HAPPEN. NEVER!"

Alastor

"*I'm* not at the hotel seeking *redemption.* I'm here to watch the sinners seeking redemption fail spectacularly."

But no yeah it's a self-burn. He's not going to count himself among the has-beens *out loud,* but...

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious could relate to that. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but! He was a failure, in a lot of ways. Succeed in something, but at the cost of too much else.

He moves to get up in order to grab at his glass.... But then lies down again. "YOU ARE VERY WARM." Reptile here,

Alastor

Alastor laughs. "It's all that mammal blood in me. Are you cold?" He looks around, trying to figure out if the bed's cover is within arm's reach. Nope.

Sir Pentious

"ALWAYSSSS. THE THERMOSSSSTAT WOULD HAVE TO BE CRANKED UP MUCH HIGHER FOR ME TO FEEL *COMFORTABLE*. AND SOMETIMESSSSS, HELL FREEZES OVER, OR AT LEAST DROPSSS TO THE NEGATIVESSSS."

.... "30 DEGREES, YOU AMERICAN." He's smiling smugly~ "DON'T PUT A BLANKET ON ME ANYWAY, I'LL END UP GOING TO SLEEP."

Alastor

His stomach twists at the phrase *hell freezes over*. He compensates by holding Sir Pentious just a little bit tighter. For the moment, he's silent.

Sir Pentious

A blink, another blink. Oh, shit, did he break Alastor? Sir Pentious swivels his head to the side, looking him over.... Blelelelele of his tongue. Concern,,,,

Alastor

Alastor flinches. "Sorry! Sorry, I was just—just thinking." He clears his throat with a noise of a dial flipping rapidly through several stations. "On the day that... when your version of me... betrayed you. Was it cold?"

Sir Pentious

*Oh.* His head lurches back.... And he thinks on it. It was hard to remember, exactly how everything had *felt*.

".... IT WAS A *BLUR*, REALLY... I. DO NOT RECALL IT AS WELL... SAFE FOR THE SSOUND OF VOLTAGE, OF WIRES SNAPPING AND METAL *CREAKING*... FEELING AS THOUGH I WERE DROWNING IN THAT SSSMILE, IN THE SSSTATIC."

But was it cold? "I. SSSORRY, ALASSSTOR. MY MEMORY ISN'T..." He looks embarrassed.

Alastor

"It's fine! It's fine, don't worry about—I shouldn't have brought it up." *His* Sir Pentious had been cold that morning. "You had more important things to worry about." So did Alastor—but he's never forgotten that cold. "Hearing you of all people talk about Hell freezing over, it made me think of—well. Old news."

Sir Pentious

A frown, and a look of frustration. He's not sure what he accidentally *said*, so when he hugs tighter this time, he pinches Alastor with his claws.

Alastor

Alastor just *said* what he said.

He flinches in surprise with a crackle of static. “What are you—?” He pinches back!

Sir Pentious

His hood FLOOPS up! And he lifts himself up some to pin Alastor to the floor, glaring down at him.

"I JUSSSST SSSSAID IT BECAUSE I'M COLD! THAT'SSSS ALL! EVERY TIME I SEE THOSE *CHRISTMAS* COLORS OR SWEATERSSSS I'M REMINDED OF HOW *UNPLEASANT* WINTER WASSS AND HOW IN *MY* HELL, SOME DAYSSSS THE TEMPERATURE JUST *DROPSSSSSS!*"

He presses their foreheads together, with Pentious STARING AT HIM. "THERE WILL BE NO READING TOO MUCH INTO MY WORDSSSSS, ALASSSTOR!!!"

Alastor

His heart leaps up into his throat. “I’m not reading too much into them! It just reminded me, that’s all!” Being flat on the ground with Sir Pentious pinning him down and pressing their faces together isn’t helping him feel any less reminded. And it occurs to him, dangerously, that it would be absolutely *effortless* to tilt up his chin and kiss Sir Pentious.

He’s got to remove *that* temptation real fast. He lunges up, wraps his arms around Sir Pentious, and pulls him back down into a hug again, putting his chin on Sir Pentious’s shoulder. “I hate the cold too. Hell does the same thing here too—three days in a row you can have temperatures of a hundred, zero, a hundred. And that’s an *American* zero.”

Sir Pentious

*BODY HEAT.*

He briefly is tempted to undo Alastor's shirt collar so he can get to his skin, but that decidedly was his animal brain talking. Don't do that.

"AH, YES, THAT SSSSOUNDSSS ABOUT RIGHT. IT DROPSSS SSSO QUICKLY." He pets down his scales, "IT ALSO JUMPSSSS UP SUDDENLY AS WELL... BEFORE I MET YOU OR VALERA, I HAD A DAY OF THE TEMPERATURE CLIMBING *SSSO* MUCH THAT MY BODY BEGAN TO *BUBBLE* AND *BLISTER*...." He winces.

"IT'SSSS A USUAL THING, PERHAPSSSS HELL'S ATTEMPT AT RECREATING THE SSSSUMMER."

Alastor

Alastor also winces on his behalf. “It doesn’t usually get much hotter than a hundred around Pentagram City, what with Lake Cocytus so close—but I’ve heard about weather like that in some of the other circles! Particularly around the volcanoes. When we do get more extreme weather, there’s no rhyme or reason to when it happens—I don’t think our Hell is trying to replicate any seasons, it’s just doing whatever it feels will annoy us most in the moment.”

He’s been laid on enough for now, he thinks. What happens if he tries to, just... sort of... roll them over, so he’s the one laying on top.

Sir Pentious

"THAT MAKESSSSS SSSENSE. WISHFUL THINKING ON MY PART, THEN."

...... He doesn't like being on the bottom! He scrambles to sit up! Tongue flicks, "ARE WE GOING TO DRINK NOW?!"

Alastor

Aw. He ruined it. He ruined the moment. He sits up. “Sure, sure!” He picks up his as yet untouched drink and takes a sip.

Sir Pentious

As he is generally known for doing! Remember the musical number he blew up?

Sir Pentious knocks his glass against Alastor's, "CHEERSSS,."

Alastor

Alastor was referring to himself ruining the moment, actually, because he has learned that all bad things that happen to him are either a consequence of or a comeuppance for his own horrible actions. But if Sir Pentious wants some credit, he can have it.

However, Alastor is still a little chunk of venison surrounded by a big pile of noodles, so it’s not all bad. “Cheers!” Tap. He takes a bigger drink.

Sir Pentious

DULY NOTED.

Penny takes a deep gulp and rubs at his throat, *purrrring* at the burning sensation.

"AHHH, THAT HISSSS JUST RIGHT!"

Alastor

“Only the *highest* quality of the sub-par junk we stock at the bar,” Alastor boasts. If that can be called a boast. “I’ll get some top notch stuff for next time. And I’ll see if I can find some ha... habooshoo? Was that what it was called?”

He sets his drink back down and goes for the food again. Far be it from him to make Sir Pentious drink alone, but if he can help it, he doesn’t want to get drunk this time. He’s enjoying himself too much to want parts of this hangout to go fuzzy around the edges.

Sir Pentious

"AH! THE HABUSHU, YESSS, THAT ALCOHOL JAPONAISE!" He nods a few times, recalling the snake, "MMM, HMMM. I COULD ALWAYSSS ASK KATSSSSU FOR MORE, I'M SURE."

Alastor

“Oh right, *him.*” Katsu keeps coming up and Alastor keeps being mildly surprised every time he comes up. “The one who got promoted from nephew to son. I’ve been meaning to ask about that—are you... actually doing any *parenting,* per se, or is it more of an honorary title?” Katsu seems old enough to take care of himself to Alastor, but they’ve only briefly met in person, and at any rate Alastor has found that the average age of “old enough” has been creeping later and later over recent decades.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious makes a bit of a *face*, and reaches instead for the brandy, uncorking (?) it.

"AH, WELL. YOU KNOW ITSSS A BIT UNUSUAL, ISN'T IT? I DON'T KNOW THE BOY TOO WELL. HE MOST ASSUREDLY LATCHED ONTO *ME* RATHER EARLY! BUT I THINK VALERA KNOWSSSS HIM BETTER THAN I DO. WE'VE SSSPENT A LITTLE TIME TOGETHER, BUT HM. I HESITATE TO CALL HIM *MY* SSSON AT THISS JUNCTURE."

Alastor

“*Ah.* Well, that explains a lot. He asked if he could call me ‘uncle’ almost immediately after meeting me.” He makes a bit of a face as well, insofar as he can with a smile on—all squinty eyes and scrunched nose. “I know some people do that out of desperation, and they have my pity, but I detest being on the receiving end!”

He nudges Sir Pentious. “How did Valera end up with him? I’ve been meaning to ask! Last I’d heard, he was calling someone else ‘mother’ and then suddenly here he was hanging around you two!”

Sir Pentious

Look at him, he looks un*comf*ortable suddenly! Sir Pentious rubs the back of his head, before he takes a swig of brandy straight from the bottle.

"OH, I REALLY FEEL AS THOUGH THE DETAILSSSS ARE LOSSST ON ME... VALERA MENTIONED SSSSOME SSSORT OF *ISSUES* BETWEEN MEREDITH AND KATSSSSU.... IT COULD BE A *JOINT* CUSSSSTODY SSSSITUATION?"

He rests his cheek on his palm, looking a little embarrassed, "IF THISSS WAS EXPLAINED TO ME, I... CLEARLY DIDN'T HEAR IT. BUT THE BOY LATCHESSS ON SSSO QUICKLY! I WAS SHOCKED TO LEARN HE WAS EIGHTEEN... WHEN I WAS HIS AGE, I WAS SSSTUDYING MATH IN PARIS."

Alastor

Well, Alastor didn’t want to make him uncomfortable! Would it help if Alastor leans on Sir Pentious again? Because he’s gonna.

Alastor mulls on this and on whether he should mention the misgivings he has about Meredith and people connected to her, when his thoughts immediately flip over to a different station. “You studied in *Paris?* I had no idea! Do you speak French?”

Sir Pentious

It does help. Those idle radio sounds and clicks are enjoyable to listen to so close.

OH! He *beams*, and gestures with a hand, "MAIS BIEN SÛR!" Sir Pentious slips his hood over his shoulder, preening in the attention, "IT WAS AT MY MOTHER'SSSS SSSUGGESTION, ANYWAY. PARISSS HAD MORE OPPORTUNITIES THAN LONDON, AND WHILE I COULD HAVE GONE ANYWHERE, I RATHER WANTED TO GO TO FRANCE." He giggles, "NOTHING MATTERED IN PARIS, EVERYONE WASN'T SSSO *UPTIGHT.* I DARESAY THE THINGSS I LEARNED *THEN* SURELY SHAPED THE KIND OF PERSON I BECAME IN THE LATTER HALF OF MY LIFE."

Alastor

“*J’arrive pas y croire!* You’ve been holding out on me!” Alastor laughs. “Your French sounds so *European.* I should have expected that.” Alastor’s French is... very not European. Not because he has a bad French accent, but because he has an extremely good Cajun accent.

“Oh, *hah!* You and me both, then! Paris, France: the perfect place for young men to find themselves and discover who they’re going to be the rest of their lives!”

Sir Pentious

This topic is much more comfortable to Sir Pentious and he looks full of life once more! No awkward movements or rubbing his neck at all.

"HA! YOUR *ACCENT!* DO IT AGAIN. SSSAY SOMETHING ELSE! IN FACT, HAVE YOU *BEEN* TO PARIS, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

“What, what do you want me to—I’ll sing something. *Le seul homme j’aimais il m’a quitté moi toute seule, pour s’en aller avec une autre que moi—*” There’s accordion and guitar in the background. It’s a very raucous song. Alastor won’t subject Sir Pentious to more than that. “Your turn. And sure, I visited Paris during the war! Learned to summon demons there! It was pretty good for both of our educations, wasn’t it?”

Sir Pentious

"VOUS INVOQUEZ DES DÉMONS À PARIS? HAAAAAAA HA HAAAAAAA!" He's clapping his hands together, laughing, "VOUS SSSSSAVEZ, CELA SSSEMBLE TOUT À FAIT HABITUEL À PARIS! JE PARIE QUE PERSONNEL NE L'A REMARQUÉ!!!!"

OH no, he's laughing so much, this is the best news he's heard. Plus, Alastor's accent is *awful*, but in the most endearing way.

Alastor

Alastor’s cracking up. “You sound like you’re reading from a textbook!” He flings an arm around his shoulders and leans on him more heavily. “*Non, non, pas à Paris.* I *learned* there, but I didn’t *do* it there. My first attempt was out in the trenches. I think I told you about that, didn’t I!—unleashing an imp in the middle of a battlefield?”

Sir Pentious

WHEEEEZE--

"OH, *OH*, I *THINK* YOU DID... ACTUALLY, CURIOUSSSS, I DON'T RECALL HOW THAT *ENDED*!"

Purrrrrr, he's going to take another swig of brandy before offering the bottle to Alastor. This is one happy hell serpent.

Alastor

“Neither do I! I was running a hell of a fever at the time! Or maybe the summoning made me delirious, I’ve never found out which it was. Anyway, I regained lucidity some days later in a medical tent, to get told all about how everything descended into anarchy and half of my surviving unit was in medical with me. Ha! Really exciting stuff!”

And deeply traumatic! He’ll accept that brandy, thank you. Sip! “There was no mention of an imp—so I don’t know if *they* caused all that chaos on my behalf, or if they were just unlucky enough to get summoned by a half-mad rookie occultist just in time to get gassed with the rest of us.”

Sir Pentious

"HMMMM... GASSED. OH! THE MUSTARD GAS? I WAS DEAD LONG BEFORE THAT GREAT WAR, BUT ONE DOES HEAR THINGS, EH!" He squeezes Alastor's shoulder.... Comforting? It was a long time ago, but talking about such things probably warranted some comfort.

"NASSSTY SSSSTUFF, THAT. PERHAPS I SHOULD ADD IT TO MY REPETOIRE!!" He winks. It's a very obvious wink, like the kind one might see in a movie to tell *I am Joking*.

Alastor

Oh! Is he being reassured? He doesn’t need it (he doesn’t think he needs it) but under the circumstances wow does that feel nice. Gonna lean more into that touch. Like a sunflower twisting toward the sun, he is. “Mustard, ketchup, sauerkraut—the works! I don’t remember that part, if I was even there for it—fever, see—so all I can do is assume. It was *probably* mustard gas, unless it was something more demonic.”

Alastor huffs. “In all seriousness, it would certainly be effective! The stuff’s bad enough it was banned after the Great War! The concept of war crimes has always been... *amazing* to me—how bad does an activity have to be before it’s made illegal to perform during the worst activity a group of humans can participate in?” He winks at Sir Pentious, “Anyway, *I* don’t mind a war crime or two, as long as I’m not on the receiving end.” Alastor thinks this is a normal supportive friend thing to say.

Sir Pentious

It is a very supportive friend thing to say!! If your friend is Sir Pentious. He is grinning headboob to headboob!!!

"HA!!! THEN WITH YOUR, AHEM, *BLESSING.* I'D GIVE YOU SSSOME WARNING AHEAD OF TIME BEFORE *PAINTING THE TOWN YELLOW.* NYA HA HAAAAAAA!" He is so very loud.

Another gulp of brandy, and his head sways a little. Buuuuuzzed.

"YOU SHOULD TEACH ME SSSOME OF YOUR BASSSTARD FRENCH. CA... CAGING?? CAGING FRENCH. THAT ONE. AND I'LL TEACH YOU *TEXTBOOK FRENCH.*"

Alastor

“When you’re ready to launch an attack that massive, I’d hope to be on board to watch with you!” ... Is that over the line? He can’t just invite himself along on one of Sir Pentious’s raids. He could have with the one he used to know, but, here...

Don’t overthink it. He’s gonna sip a little more of his drink. “Bastard French *indeed.* Cajun is a perfectly pristine, utterly respectable French. Just not the kind of French they teach in France to *English* students. And I already speak textbook French, thank you!” He puts on a robotic-sounding accent, like a student reciting pre-memorized foreign language phrases. “‘*Bonjour, monsieur ! Excusez-moi ! Je m’apelle Pierre-Paul-Jacques. Comment allez-vous ?*’ Hah!”

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious *cackles* madly, SLAPPING Alastor on the back. TEARS man, TEARS! He clears his throat, then lifts his hands up, imitating Alastor's ears.

"HELLO, *MON CHERE*! SSSSALUT, SSSSALUT!! PASSSS *LE GUMBO!*" He grins playfully!

Could be vaguely offensive, but you know. Hell.

Alastor

He simultaneously tries not to grimace and tries not to smile harder. "Your accent is abominable, couyon."

Sir Pentious

HEE HEE HEE. *HEE HEE HEE!* Sir Pentious looks so pleased with himself.

Alastor

SHOVE. But it's a light shove. Friendly shove.

He immediately closes the distance again. "In France, when we had to deal with the locals, they usually asked me since I was already fluent—in a manner of speaking. Wanna know all the words that got me weird looks in Paris??"

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious looks to Alastor, leaning on his hands and *purring* in that horrific way of his, his hood lifting to drape itself upon the other's head. Flompf.

"YESSS, MY *MAN.* TELL ME, TELL ME!"

Alastor

“Very well! One time I got five men to stop and stare at me when I proposed hosting a *fais do-do,* we should start there!”

And so for the next he-can’t-even-keep-track-of-how-long, he pulls out as many obscure and local terms as he can think of—until they drift off on a trail of other topics. The only way Alastor is keeping track of the fact that time’s passing at all is by his gradually emptying glass and the dwindling quantity of food. He can’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

Sir Pentious

Alas, all fun times must come to an end! Sir Pentious finally has hit his limit for social interaction....he puts a hand to Alastor's shoulder, his body swaying some as he begins to uncoil himself.

"WELL, ALASSSTOR... I BETTER BE GETTING BACK TO MY SHIP. I HAD A *GOOD* TIME WITH YOU! NEXT TIME, I'LL BE SSSOBER ENOUGH TO GET THOSE MEASUREMENTSSSSS."

Alastor

Alastor tries his best to steady Sir Pentious. Which is a bit of a challenge, considering that Alastor is drunk and Sir Pentious is a slinky that’s twice as drunk and twice as tall. “So did I!” Alastor squeezes the elbow he’s been helping support.

He really did have a good time. For the first time since he met this Sir Pentious, he didn’t feel like he had to be on his best damn behavior, careful of every single word and action, triple checking every sentence’s implications to ensure he was neither about to accidentally trod on Sir Pentious’s brittle ego nor about to get unacceptably affectionate... This was how it was supposed to be. They’d finally gotten everything right.

“You could have gotten those measurements *before* you got drunk, you know.” He winks. “But if you want another excuse to butt around with me, I’m not going to complain.”

Sir Pentious

He purrs and pretends to look offended, "WHAT! NOOO, I COULD NOT HAVE-- I DID NOT BRING MY MEASURING EQUIPMENT." Which he totally has. He giggles drunkenly, starting to slither toward the door, blinking hard to make sure he wasn't bumping into anything. He was, but whatever.

"BUTT AROUND WE SHALL, ALASSSTOR!"

Alastor

Maybe Alastor oughta help Sir Pentious with the door. He’s just gotta get to the door before Sir Pentious does. He’s halfway through climbing over the bed to try to reach the door first when he *remembers* something, loses his balance, nearly face plants, somehow manages to keep his feet and stumbles forward to pose himself with his elbow propped against the wall like he totally meant to do that. “Before you go! I’ve got something to say.”

Sir Pentious

~~Alastor I'd die for you.~~ Penny blinks, his head swiveling a little in place as he looks to that very elegant pose from Alastor. Tongue flicks. "HMM??? WHAT ISS IT?"

Alastor

“I...! Ahh.” Now he’s actually got to *say* it. That’s embarrassing as hell.

But what would be more embarrassing would be *looking* like he’s embarrassed, so he rallies himself and says, “When you came over, you were expecting to get drunk and wrestle a buck, not necessarily in that order! You *weren’t* expecting an unplanned therapy session wherein I drag up a good fifty-odd years of... concerns, about the environmental effects of Hell. But you took it gamely and responded in kind, and I... well... Thank you.”

Sir Pentious

His eyes are doing a weird thing, but it's mostly because he's trying to keep Alastor in his focus. Sir Pentious strokes his chin a little, and he waves a hand, "IT WASSSSN'T THERAPY, ALASSSSTOR. I WAS LISTENING TO YOU HAVE A TALK ABOUT YOUR *FEELINGSSSS.* AFTER ALL, YOU'VE HEARD ME PRATTLE ON ABOUT THINGSSSS BEFORE, WHAT KIND OF *SIR* WOULD I BE IF I DIDN'T LISTEN IN KIND???" What a development. He reaches over to pull Alastor into a very drunken hug, "ANYWAY, YOU ARE WELCOME, MY DEAR CHUM! THANKSSSSS FOR PREPARING EVERYTHING ON SSSSSUCH SHORT NOTICE! I HAD A VERY GOOD TIME."

Alastor

He melts into the hug. It’s so *nice.* “So did I. The best time in years.” He pulls back, grinning a *real* grin, and looks Sir Pentious over. “Do you need help getting home?”

Sir Pentious

Hmmm... Does he? All his eyes are blinking at different times.

".... YOU KNOW, PERHAPSSSSS I DO. THE SSSTAIRSS ARE NOT SSSOMETHING I AM LOOKING TO NAVIGATE."

Alastor

“Come on!” He slings an arm around Sir Pentious’s back to help keep him steady. “I think I can do something about those stairs.”

(The “something” is temporarily turn them into a slide. This definitely won’t end badly and he won’t regret it at all.)

Sir Pentious

Prr prr prr... He's going to head out into the hallway with Alastor in toe... Yes, surely. This won't end badly. Like forgetting that he changed the stairs into a slide later.

Alastor

Surely not.

And out they go, headed home.

#hissandvinegar #chat log

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