daft punk is playing at my house, my house.

[molotovmartinis]

WHO: New Year's Eve Demonic/Celestial Trollothon 2010 (tag in!)
WHAT: a hellish dinner party ( menu, for the lulz DON'T LAUGH AT ME I had fun looking all that shit up)
WHERE: the Counterweight building (the import center)
WHEN: backdated to New Year's Eve, 6:30 PM and onwards
WARNINGS: oh my god so much alcohol
SUMMARY: For the record, Balthazar

Comments

[painhumbles]

Gabriel ducked under the table instantly, effectively shielding himself- not that they would really do much more than irritate him. Pain wasn't anything he had a particular tolerance for and he sought to avoid it at all costs.

"Next time we do this, I'm making a no killer bees rule," he muttered and then added, "Are you just pulling things out of a hat?"

Because, really now, at least his tricks had been pretty good jokes, punny or otherwise. They served a purpose, anyway. He could have really brought down the hurt, but he didn't, because, unlike Lucifer, he didn't feel any particular need to hurt these people. It wasn't fun if they didn't deserve it and sure, some of them did, but he wasn't going to single them out for a game with his brother. He'd rather take them down when they were alone, tailoring the tricks to them, specifically.

Call him a monster all you wanted, but he had style and substance to his deadlier tricks if people only bothered to look. This was harmless fun, in his book and it would remain harmless, despite Lucifer's insistence on turning it into a bloodbath, which was, honestly, the point of the game, but Gabriel was making up his own rules as he went along. Lucifer could believe what she wanted about him- in the end, he'd be the one laughing.