lazarus ( incubus ) . (shatterings) wrote in light_of_may, |
Lazarus raised his glass in response to her toast, acknowledging as he did so that she was more than welcome to the word if she liked how it sounded, how it felt on her tongue as she formed and spoke it. He had no doubt he would find what he was looking for either but there was no need to sing his own praises. Not just yet, anyway. There would be a better opening in the conversation for that and when it was presented to him he would take it easily and readily. Demons were creatures of opportunity and Lazarus wasn't in the business of passing them up. "I'll make sure to stop by and pay them a visit," he said, before drinking from the rim of his glass once again, setting it down on the bar afterwards.
There was no mistaking the frustration in her voice, the irritation that she had missed out on what any of them would call a golden opportunity, especially for one such as her, and he rested his arms against the bar in what most would read as a patient, almost sympathetic manner. That wasn't what it was, of course, not in the sense that most people could understand. Lazarus could understand the frustration that she was feeling, being cut off from so much potential prey, and he sighed a little on her behalf. "Look at it this way," he said, reaching out to idly turn the glass against the surface of the bar, "if you had gone this might not have happened at all and then you would have been stuck with all those pathetic children, whining and groping and slobbering all over one another." Lazarus pulled a disgusted face, shaking his head. "No," he went on, dismissing the whole thing, "what you need is something to take your mind off the whole business." He smirked then, an expression that soon became a grin, even if only for a moment, giving her a chance to see his sharp teeth in all their wicked glory.