[thread] she's castle bound, restricted from the sounds that assure her i'm okay

[principe_cieco]

Who: Belphegor and Squalo Superbi
Where: Squalo's workplace -- Neo Genesis Daily
When: around lunchtime
Summary: hanging out. doing what princes do.
Rating: PG-13
Other: princes are better than everyone. ever.

Comments

[notolddamnit]

It was like a sixth sense. One that compelled him to look up and find that, yes, that was Bel setting the curtains on fire. Or throwing knives at servants. Or dropping potted plants off the window of his apartment - apparently a concussion was ten times more amusing than a mere water balloon. Squalo attributed the quasi-paranormal tingle that let him know the prince was up to no good to years watching, literally, as the brat grew up. It was tingling pretty hard, right now, so he took off the earphones and traded Chopin for the irritating clutter of the noisy office.

Twitch. Twitch. Sneer.

And Squalo was storming out of his office - it was really more of an entitle cubicle - with a bang as the door bounced off the wall, and caused one of the secretaries to throw a tower of paper up in the air.

Sissies.

"VOOOII! Brat!" Squalo snarled as he spotted Bel. That was probably the Squalese for Hey, Bel! Long time no see, want tea and cookies? as he retreated back to his office with a huff, door open in tacit invitation.

[principe_cieco]

Ah! There he was!

Belphegor grinned widely, smile sharp and cutting across those lips and he was waving like a kid with hands high above his head, flapping those striped sleeves around. For once, he chose not to wear the uniform jacket that labeled him a Varia member, choosing for something lighter and cuter instead. Like a vibrant orange-and-black striped shirt and some pants. Because obnoxious was better, after all.

"Shark!"

He hissed in that same tone the older male had as a reply, expression mocking but he chose to follow after, skipping a little but that was just how he was. he didn't bother to close the door after himself either, just rocking back and forth in those white boots, looking around boredly from behind that long mane of ash blonde hair.

"I'm bored."

He stated quite bluntly, then tipping his head over at the other male pointedly.

[notolddamnit]

Squalo dropped himself on the chair behind his desk. He gave Bel an expression somewhere between a sneer and a dry look, and rolled his eyes. The desk was full of papers and some magazines, as well as a laptop running a search on something or another. Squalo, headphones still around his neck, reached out and picked up a squeaky plastic ball.

"Here," he said, squeezing the ball so it'd squeak loudly, and then threw it over Bel's head and out into the main office, "fetch."

[principe_cieco]

Bel tilted his head back, looking past his bangs at the ball that flew over his head and then let those lips curl back into his own sneer, throwing himself onto the chair in front of Squalo's desk, slinging one leg over the arm and sprawling as if he owned the place. To him, he did.

"You fetch."

He retorted back, crossing his arms against his chest and sulking a little, though that grin still stayed on his face. "I'm not a dog. I'm a prince."

There was a pause as he thought.

"You're lower than me, so you go get it. Shark-mutt."

Because he was creative when it came to nicknames, after all. But then again, he was a prince. He didn't need to think so much on it.