(Untitled)

[apocryphalwords]

Time: May 15th, 2001
Status: Private (Adam and Beelzebub)
Setting: Downstairs lounge
Summary: Adam plays with a Crown?

The light seemed to hurt his eyes since he'd returned to this demesne, and Beelzebub sought out the deepest, darkest corners, lurking like some nightmare marring the boy's dream house. For now, this meant the basement, where he

Comments

[average_adam]

The boy in question was up to many things, in fact, but he was also well aware that he was being watched. While he could occasionally use it to his advantage, mostly he just tried to ensure that no one knew anything he didn't wish them to know. As his web expanded, there was too much at stake

[apocryphalwords]

The Crown actually hadn't made a specific attempt to find the boy, but he would gladly take credit for any defenses that might be lowered. He rolled over, lazy, lounging, until Adam was no longer upside down in his field of vision.

A smile played across the demon's lips until he remembered, with sudden and painful clarity, how foolish he had felt the last time the two of them had spoken; his smile faltered, sharpened into a grimace, and then whithered away altogether. "Daddy's little boy has learned his manners," he murmured, steel edges beneath the soft comment. "And what brings you here, little Antichrist?"

[average_adam]

"I never forgot 'em," he retorted, watching the demon's expressions carefully and remembering, too, the highly charged circumstances of their last encounter. "My father raised me properly." He meant Mr. Young, of course. Lucifer hadn't raised him at all.

"An' I was lookin' for someplace quiet. Guess you were, too, so I'll leave you to it." With an odd, opaque look, Adam turned to go.

[apocryphalwords]

"No need to leave so soon," Beelzebub murmured, each syllable drawn out lazily. It was an uncharacteristically quick reversal of his former agitation; he felt a fool for not just letting Adam leave, stupid and simpering. But the boy looked so like his father: chiseled beauty, glowing golden, except where Lucifer had a timeless and unearthly quality to his face, Adam was real and irresistibly human.

He wondered if Adam knew where he'd been, if he could sense Lucifer's scent on him, fire and brimstone, the way the boy smelled young and fresh, like a new rain. He wondered how decadent and soiled that golden face could become in Hell.

His fingers wandered across the felt until he found one of the loose pool balls that he shared the table with. He toyed with it idly, his eyes ever on the boy. "Stay and play, if you like."