Drabble, redux
Sortakinda a continuation of that last drabble, from my Darkness series. ^^; A certain Lord of Darkness being weird. >.>;
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"Guess what!"
Lurizal grimaced, attempting to shove his fellow Lord of Darkness off of his lap. "Ugh. Azragael, you reek." His nose crinkled up. "Where'd you get alcohol from anyway?"
"Nice vampire chica. Pretty thing. Lovely hair. Not as lovely as yours, though," Azragael purred, refusing to be dislodged. Lurizal had never quite been able to figure out how he managed it, as technically they were equal in power. Perhaps Azragael had some hithero unknown lap-clinging magic...
"Vampire chica." Lurizal sighed. "You really are a disgrace as a Lord of Darkness."
Azragael sat up, blinking slightly and frowning as he attempted to decide if that had been an insult or not. "Am not," he decided finally. "I'm just not very imposing when I'm tipsy."
Lurizal snorted. "You passed tipsy about five drinks ago, Az. Honestly."
Azragael blinked, the flames in his eyes momentarily flickering in different directions. "Oh." He considered. "That would be why I'm in your lap," he decided, nodding.
"That would be why you're in my lap." Lurizal sighed. Bad enough that one of the two strongest Lords of Darkness insisted upon getting plastered on a regular basis when a simple spell would prevent any loss of functionality, but inevitably Azragael ended up in the same place every single time he got drunk. Lurizal's lap.
"I like your lap," Azragael announced happily, throwing his arms around Lurizal's neck and attempting to kiss him. As he was definitely 'more than tipsy,' he missed, kissing Lurizal's right eye instead.
Lurizal sighed again. "I'm surprised you didn't tumble your vampire drinking buddy. It's not like you to pass up an opportunity."
Azragael considered carefully, his head weaving slightly back and forth as he attempted to think. "Can't," he decided eventually. "She's taken. Or will be taken. Or something like that." He frowned. "Baby vampires. Cute little things. I want one."
Resisting the urge to beat his head against something, Lurizal muttered a quick sobriety spell. Azragael blinked, then pouted. "Hey, that wasn't nice..."
"You weren't making any sense," Lurizal pointed out, attempting again to shove Azragael off his lap. This time the flame-haired demon allowed himself to be removed, standing and dusting his pants off.
"Making sense is boring," Azragael stated, crossing his arms. "Then I'd be like you."
Lurizal glared. "I happen to like being me," he snapped.
Azragael sighed. "I know." He shrugged. "Not sure why, but to each his own I guess. Sorry for disturbing your precious work, Riz." Flames flared up around him, obscuring him from view, then abruptly the red haired demon was gone. Lurizal sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his thick golden curls, feeling relieved and deprived all at once.
Stupid Azragael. Why did he have to be so... so... overwhelming?
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"Guess what!"
Lurizal grimaced, attempting to shove his fellow Lord of Darkness off of his lap. "Ugh. Azragael, you reek." His nose crinkled up. "Where'd you get alcohol from anyway?"
"Nice vampire chica. Pretty thing. Lovely hair. Not as lovely as yours, though," Azragael purred, refusing to be dislodged. Lurizal had never quite been able to figure out how he managed it, as technically they were equal in power. Perhaps Azragael had some hithero unknown lap-clinging magic...
"Vampire chica." Lurizal sighed. "You really are a disgrace as a Lord of Darkness."
Azragael sat up, blinking slightly and frowning as he attempted to decide if that had been an insult or not. "Am not," he decided finally. "I'm just not very imposing when I'm tipsy."
Lurizal snorted. "You passed tipsy about five drinks ago, Az. Honestly."
Azragael blinked, the flames in his eyes momentarily flickering in different directions. "Oh." He considered. "That would be why I'm in your lap," he decided, nodding.
"That would be why you're in my lap." Lurizal sighed. Bad enough that one of the two strongest Lords of Darkness insisted upon getting plastered on a regular basis when a simple spell would prevent any loss of functionality, but inevitably Azragael ended up in the same place every single time he got drunk. Lurizal's lap.
"I like your lap," Azragael announced happily, throwing his arms around Lurizal's neck and attempting to kiss him. As he was definitely 'more than tipsy,' he missed, kissing Lurizal's right eye instead.
Lurizal sighed again. "I'm surprised you didn't tumble your vampire drinking buddy. It's not like you to pass up an opportunity."
Azragael considered carefully, his head weaving slightly back and forth as he attempted to think. "Can't," he decided eventually. "She's taken. Or will be taken. Or something like that." He frowned. "Baby vampires. Cute little things. I want one."
Resisting the urge to beat his head against something, Lurizal muttered a quick sobriety spell. Azragael blinked, then pouted. "Hey, that wasn't nice..."
"You weren't making any sense," Lurizal pointed out, attempting again to shove Azragael off his lap. This time the flame-haired demon allowed himself to be removed, standing and dusting his pants off.
"Making sense is boring," Azragael stated, crossing his arms. "Then I'd be like you."
Lurizal glared. "I happen to like being me," he snapped.
Azragael sighed. "I know." He shrugged. "Not sure why, but to each his own I guess. Sorry for disturbing your precious work, Riz." Flames flared up around him, obscuring him from view, then abruptly the red haired demon was gone. Lurizal sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his thick golden curls, feeling relieved and deprived all at once.
Stupid Azragael. Why did he have to be so... so... overwhelming?