Who: Nihilism (godisdead) and Gluttony (needsmoar) When: May 21st. Where: Nils' Apartment Rating: M. For sex, cussing, etc.
He had just gotten back from a trip to Vegas, and though the pain of killing Temperance was still fresh, it had dulled to a mere annoyance by the time he was through raving around Sin City. There was something healing about that place, he swore, and it seemed that no matter how down he was before going there, his mood had brightened considerably upon his return.
Which was why he deigned to keep his appointment with a certain God of Jack Shit.
Of course, those words implied boxes, and Gluttony was eager enough to step outside of his own and dabble in a little debauchery with a stranger he had met a few days ago.
Online.
Yeah, life was good.
The Sin glanced down at the directions he had scribbled out on a crumpled piece of paper, then tilted his head upwards to stare at the building he had been led to. How quaint. Well, in the eyes of a man like him, most everything seemed cheap and little more than endearing, but he could honestly say his opinion was correct this time. Shrugging off any lingering misconceptions he might have had, Gluttony made his way through the front door, past the small lobby, and weaved around a congregation of younger mortals to the elevator beyond. His directions said top floor, but other than that, his only indication of a room number had been nothing more than the words, 'back corner', which left a lot to be desired.
It wasn't a problem, though. Gluttony had time - immortals were special like that - and would knock on every door if he had to. He was sure he could spot his new fuck-buddy by intellectual snark alone.