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Tweak says, "le sigh"

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Adam & Michael ([info]iamagoodson) wrote in [info]entrywaythreads,
@ 2021-04-06 21:53:00

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Entry tags:asmodeus, michael

Who: Amodeus and Michael
When: Just after this
Where: The Brothel
What: Michael claims he wants a nap
Ratings/Warnings: Hard to say, TBA



It really was just as bad as Michael had imagined. Aesthetics were not within his purview, he had little eye for decor and design, it hadn't useful for heaven's sword and shield to care about how pleasing something was to look upon. That said, he did have his preferences. He enjoyed the color blue, enjoyed things neat and tidy, enjoyed the occasional plant to a point. He leaned toward the clean and spartan when he was left to his own devices, save perhaps in dress and care of his vessels.

But The Brothel, he decided he didn't like looking at it.

Like most of the buildings in Gehenna, it had a vaguely depressing air about it no matter what the men and women in the windows were doing. It reminded him of Winchesters and the worst bits of hell. Of his Lucifer's scream when he'd run him through with the blade even though that had taken place in a relatively comfortable library. Ugliness and despair, that's what he decided on when he crossed the threshold of the place. Ugliness and despair that didn't call images of his newfound sibling to mind though Asmodeus would likely argue. Both with his assessment of them and his thoughts on the building. They would call it industrial chic or whatever other words explained it, tell him he didn't understand or wouldn't let himself because of that 'entire oak tree shoved up' his ass, as Castiel had once put it.

Then they would make some sort of sexual proposition that Michael would decline and they would find their way back to being incredibly depressing as they always seemed to be. He found himself missing Adam's voice then, his kind optimism and gentle pushes at Michael to encourage him to enjoy life. Now they were both dead. It hadn't worked out as well for Michael as it likely did for Adam.

"I'm here to see Asmodeus." He said to the person at the door, largely ignoring their attempts at friendly.



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[info]hammadai
2021-04-08 04:18 pm UTC (link)
The knock at Asmodeus' door came right in the midst of him staring at his reflection, squinting his eyes as though it changed them somehow. It didn't. He couldn't change the eyes or the hair, here, though he could change his clothes and his body from male to female and back again. He opened his eyes back up and snapped his fingers, and the door opened. A slim little street urchin in a red dress that did nothing to hide her naughty bits leaned into the room, one blonde eyebrow arching upward.

"'E's 'ere for ya," she said, the accent sharp and thoroughly cockney English. Then she was back out the door and vanishing into some forgotten corner of the Brothel.

Asmodeus grunted and lit a cigarette, crossing down the hall and to the front door, where he tossed one enormous arm on Jimmy the Door Guy's shoulder. "I'll take him from here, Jimmy," he said, puffing out smoke. He nodded his head toward the inside of the Brothel. "We're going upstairs. If you really think my brother is that big a threat, we're going to have to talk, Jimmy."

Jimmy shook his head, mute in Asmodeus' presence for some reason that Asmodeus had yet to figure out. Maybe he was afraid.

"Hello, Mickey. Come on in. Up the stairs, first room on the left."

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[info]iamagoodson
2021-04-08 05:00 pm UTC (link)
Michael paused to look at this 'Jimmy'. He didn't go poking around in his head but he could tell that he was making the man uncomfortable. Was it fear? It had been a while since he inspired fear in anyone. Perhaps Dean and Sam when they first reconnected and the brothers remembered that in their world he was second only to God. Lucifer certainly hadn't been afraid when they fought. Lucifer had gotten smug and overconfident and that was why Lucifer was dead. This one though, he had nothing to fear from Michael both as an archangel and as the head government official for the city, so when his eyes drifted to his sibling they didn't drift back.

He could understand being frightened of his true form, but as he was? He looked to most eyes like a simple human man who was on the taller side of average with a very light northern mid-western American accent and who for the moment was dressed not so differently than Adam had when he first took him as his vessel. Michael himself tended to prefer tailored suits or armor, but for the time being he was feeling more than a little sentimental.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of the olive green jacket he was wearing, not sure if looking more casual put anyone at ease but he didn't care enough to be concerned about it. "I'm not sure calling me Mickey makes them feel any better about me being here." He said, not waiting for Asmodeus to show him the way, heading to the stairs on his own. "Though if I ever find myself in a cruel mood I might decide to come linger in your hall with my lance or a priest's collar."

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