Darkness drabble
Silliness from Darkness. ^^; Takes place post-everything, and contains characters mentioned in maderr's In Darkness Thrive, and elaborated upon in my two drabbles as well as From The Dark Realms With Love. ^.~ Aka, if you don't know who Azragael, Lurizal, and the vampire chica are, better go read those first. ^___^
---
"I can handle this alone, Azragael. I don't need you looming over my shoulder, destroying my image."
Azragael sniffed and crossed his arms. "You're a prick, Vaz."
High Lord Vazirel, Lord of Darkness over the third circle of Hell, sighed in annoyance and mirrored the gesture. Being thinner and shorter than Azragael, the gesture wasn't quite as impressive as it could have been. Though he had almost managed to master Lurizal's Intimidating Glares, if the way Azragael flinched was any indication.
"You've obviously been messing with the timestream again as well," Vazirel noted dryly. "I'm going to assume that 'prick' is an insult?"
"Uh." Azragael considered. "Yes and no. Prick is colloquial slang for one's penis, which I suppose could be a compliment, but it's used as an insult..." He blinked. "I like my penis. Why would calling someone a penis be an insult?"
Vazirel sighed quietly and brushed a strand of dark red hair, eerily reminiscent of dried blood, behind one ear. "Why don't you go ask Lurizal and leave me to deal with my Realm in peace?" he suggested.
"Lurizal kicked me out and told me to go find something to do while he works," Azragael replied with a slight huff. "He works too much."
"Not all of us have your incredible ability to do practically nothing and still have our Realms run smoothly."
"I'm special."
Vazirel sighed again. "Apparently. Please go away? I need to go torture and maim some dissidents."
Azragael sighed as well, looking remarkably sulky for one of the seven six Lords of Darkness, and floated away. "Can't I just toast a few of them? I like toasting dissidents."
Giving permission was the last thing Vazirel wanted to do, but denying Azragael was asking for trouble. One did not simply say 'no' to one of the two most powerful beings alive, even if the being in question behaved more like a petulant child than an all powerful Lord of Darkness.
"Fine, whatever. Go toast a few, then leave me alone." Vazirel waved a hand, though Azragael was gone before the motion was complete. With any luck, the demon of flame would do exactly what he'd stated he was going to do, though Vazirel didn't have much hope of that. The last time Azragael had decided to incinerate a few dissidents, half the fifth and sixth realms had gone up in flames.
Far below, Azragael reappeared in the midst of angry demons, rebellious souls, and general chaos. He basked a moment in the sheer and absolute terror that followed his arrival, then calmly set about making the insolents burst into flames. One at a time, to draw it out longer. He was starting to run out of targets when there came a blood-curdling scream and sudden sounds of a struggle.
Intrigued, Azragael followed the sounds to where a group of demons appeared to be getting their collective asses kicked by a very angry, very familiar strawberry blond. He watched for a few moments, trying to place the pretty face that was doing an admirable job of holding her own until one of them thought to slip up behind her.
Azragael scowled and set the creature on fire, at which point the rest of them finally noticed him. Five seconds later he was alone with the beautifully flushed, panting, somewhat bedraggled strawberry blond. She looked up at him slowly, golden eyes widening as a light of recognition flickered through them, then she took a step forward. "Azragael..."
That was odd. Usually people ran away from him. This, then, was someone he liked? Or at least, hadn't tortured. The assortment of marbles, sparkly rocks, and bits of radioactive glitter that comprised his brain worked overtime trying to place the face. "I'm sorry," he said finally, "I know I know you, but you must understand that I've met an awful lot of people in my lifetime and sometimes it takes me a while to place them..."
The pretty lady laughed and grinned at him, exposing sharp fangs. "I'm not surprised," she said, somehow managing to appear the perfect, regal lady even dirty and with her clothing in tatters. "I never gave you my name. We were otherwise occupied with beer and dice, after all."
She winked, and suddenly Azragael remembered. The vampire chica with far too much luck over the dice and the twin vampire babies. What was she doing in the Dark Realms? If he recalled right, she'd won one of his rings of immortality off of him...
"So, are you going to give it now, or do I have to guess?" he asked, putting on his best 'make Lurizal less mad at me' grin.
She considered for a moment, then smiled. "Nesrin."
Azragael bowed courteously and extended his arm. "Well then, Lady Nesrin, I don't think Vaz will mind if I abscond with you back to my own Realm, and my palace is much nicer than this muck." He waved a hand dismissively at the squalid conditions around them.
Laughing, Nesrin accepted the proffered arm. A moment later both vanished, leaving behind only a few flickering flames.
Finding his old drinking buddy in the Dark Realms had been the highlight of Azragael's decade. Nesrin had taken to her new position as Azragael's chief of staff beautifully and in the course of two short weeks had the majority of his servants as terrified of her as they were of him. It made him so proud.
Yesterday, the obnoxious demon currently serving as his messenger had actually wet his pants when she glared at him. To celebrate properly, Azragael had hopped over to the mortal realm for a few cases of quality booze and had spent half the afternoon setting up the dining hall to resemble the earth tavern where they'd initially met, minus the piss stains. It didn't need to be completely authentic.
He was just setting the dice cup in its appropriate place when a brief swirl of power alerted him to an unexpected arrival. As he straightened and turned, Lurizal's familiar, disdainful voice carried through the air.
"Do I even want to ask what you're up to this time, Az?"
Azragael grinned, vanishing and reappearing right in front of Lurizal so he could use the opportunity of surprise to wrap his arms around the prickly demon and steal a searing kiss. "I'm celebrating."
Lurizal arched a pale brow. "Celebrating what?"
"Nesrin!" Azragael announced dramatically, flinging one arm out for added emphasis.
That pale brow slid up further. "Who or what is Nesrin?" Lurizal asked.
"Vampire chica," Azragael explained, putting the flung arm back where it belonged, somewhere in the vicinity of Lurizal's nicely firm ass. "Pretty thing. Beat me in a dice game once. I was drunk, so that may be why... Lots of fun. Baby vampires. I still want one. Though I guess they're not babies anymore..."
With an incredible amount of patience, Lurizal sighed. "Tell me you're not drunk already, Az."
Azragael sniffed indignantly. "Not yet, no. I just got done setting everything up. You want to stay and join us?" He considered. "Though, I don't know if I could handle both of you beating me..."
Lurizal rolled his eyes. "You manage to instinctively know things and events that won't occur for hundreds of years and you can't figure out how to predict the outcome of a simple dice game?"
Azragael blinked. "But if I knew all the answers already, what would be the fun in guessing?"
"To win?" Lurizal observed wryly.
"But..." Azragael's face scrunched up in thought. "But... then... but..."
"Try not to make him think too hard, Lord Lurizal," a warm, lilting voice interrupted with a soft laugh. "You might break his brain." A beautiful woman stood casually in the doorway, her long green and purple gown clinging to every generous curve of her voluptuous figure. A cascade of elaborate strawberry blond curls framed her face and spilled across her bare shoulders, bouncing as she walked toward them.
"To break it, he would first have to possess one," Lurizal commented, pale blue eyes watching the woman sharply. "I assume you are Nesrin?"
The woman curtsied. "That I am. I have heard much of you, my Lord."
Lurizal shot Azragael a look. "Do I want to know what he's told you?"
Nesrin laughed. "Well, he's successfully proven to me that it is indeed possible for Lords of Darkness to be absolutely and completely besotted with love." She shot Lurizal a sly smile. "I almost envy you, Lord Lurizal."
To his utter disgrace, a pale flush stained Lurizal's cheeks and he jerked his gaze away from those too-knowing eyes. "I don't envy me," he muttered. "It's annoying."
Both Nesrin and Azragael laughed, the latter choosing to thoroughly kiss away Lurizal's sullen pout until the blond demon was breathless and couldn't for the life of him remember what they'd been talking about. He allowed himself to be steered to a rather crude wooden chair, though he drew the line at actually sitting in it. Instead, he transformed it into a proper throne of black obsidian before seating himself.
Snickering quietly, Azragael pulled out another chair for the lady who completely ignored him and seated herself. They flashed matching grins at one another, and Azragael dropped into his seat. "Let the celebration begin!" he proclaimed, getting out a number of heavy mugs and filling them all with the booze he'd retrieved earlier.
Nesrin picked up a mug, klunked it with Azragael's, then promptly downed the entire thing. The flame-haired lord of darkness followed suit, then both looked expectantly to Lurizal.
"Let me guess," Lurizal sighed. "Being too drunk to think properly makes the game more fun." He shook his head and sipped his own glass, not about to guzzle it like the other two lunatics.
"Something like that," Nesrin agreed, scooping up the dice cup and shaking it as she shot Azragael a sharp-fanged grin. "Ready to lose again, demon?"
"In your dreams, vampire," Azragael shot back gleefully, refilling the tankards with a gesture.
In response, Nesrin slammed the cup down on the table and eyed him intently. Azragael leaned forward, matching her unblinkingly, then pronounced solemnly, "Five."
Nesrin's lips twisted up into a sly smile. "Nine."
As one, they turned to look pointedly at Lurizal. The blond demon wondered when and why he'd ever agreed to this, then sighed. "I don't know. Twelve?"
Azragael reached out and swept the cup up, revealing the two innocuous die beneath. Gold and flaming red-orange eyes stared for a moment, then those incredulous gazes turned to Lurizal, who scowled. "What?"
"Huh," Azragael muttered, poking at the matching sixes showing. "How'd he do that?"
"Beginner's luck," Nesrin announced cheerfully, scooping the die up and depositing them in the cup Azragael still held.
"Hmm..." Lurizal contemplated them both for a moment, then actually smiled ever so slightly. "So, if I win... what is my prize?"
Azragael and Nesrin shared a look, then Nesrin's crimson lips quirked into a positively devious smirk. "Oh, I think if your beginner's luck holds, Azragael should be on the bottom for once. Don't you agree, demon?" Her golden eyes never left Azragael's, though she laughed when the demon's eyes widened.
Lurizal considered thoughtfully, letting his gaze roam over the familiar form of his quirky lover, then matched Nesrin's smirk. "I think that sounds like a splendid prize, don't you, Az?"
Azragael looked from one to the other, then promptly took another guzzle of alcohol. "Fine," he agreed, "But if I win, you're not leaving my bed for a week. At least."
"Lady?" Lurizal looked to Nesrin with a new appreciation. "Choose your prize."
"My choice of Azragael's magical trinkets," she answered promptly, reaching out to take the cup of die from the demon in question.
Lurizal beat her to it, cupping his hand over the mouth and shaking it confidently. "Very well then," he murmured. "May be best man, or woman, win."
---
"I can handle this alone, Azragael. I don't need you looming over my shoulder, destroying my image."
Azragael sniffed and crossed his arms. "You're a prick, Vaz."
High Lord Vazirel, Lord of Darkness over the third circle of Hell, sighed in annoyance and mirrored the gesture. Being thinner and shorter than Azragael, the gesture wasn't quite as impressive as it could have been. Though he had almost managed to master Lurizal's Intimidating Glares, if the way Azragael flinched was any indication.
"You've obviously been messing with the timestream again as well," Vazirel noted dryly. "I'm going to assume that 'prick' is an insult?"
"Uh." Azragael considered. "Yes and no. Prick is colloquial slang for one's penis, which I suppose could be a compliment, but it's used as an insult..." He blinked. "I like my penis. Why would calling someone a penis be an insult?"
Vazirel sighed quietly and brushed a strand of dark red hair, eerily reminiscent of dried blood, behind one ear. "Why don't you go ask Lurizal and leave me to deal with my Realm in peace?" he suggested.
"Lurizal kicked me out and told me to go find something to do while he works," Azragael replied with a slight huff. "He works too much."
"Not all of us have your incredible ability to do practically nothing and still have our Realms run smoothly."
"I'm special."
Vazirel sighed again. "Apparently. Please go away? I need to go torture and maim some dissidents."
Azragael sighed as well, looking remarkably sulky for one of the seven six Lords of Darkness, and floated away. "Can't I just toast a few of them? I like toasting dissidents."
Giving permission was the last thing Vazirel wanted to do, but denying Azragael was asking for trouble. One did not simply say 'no' to one of the two most powerful beings alive, even if the being in question behaved more like a petulant child than an all powerful Lord of Darkness.
"Fine, whatever. Go toast a few, then leave me alone." Vazirel waved a hand, though Azragael was gone before the motion was complete. With any luck, the demon of flame would do exactly what he'd stated he was going to do, though Vazirel didn't have much hope of that. The last time Azragael had decided to incinerate a few dissidents, half the fifth and sixth realms had gone up in flames.
Far below, Azragael reappeared in the midst of angry demons, rebellious souls, and general chaos. He basked a moment in the sheer and absolute terror that followed his arrival, then calmly set about making the insolents burst into flames. One at a time, to draw it out longer. He was starting to run out of targets when there came a blood-curdling scream and sudden sounds of a struggle.
Intrigued, Azragael followed the sounds to where a group of demons appeared to be getting their collective asses kicked by a very angry, very familiar strawberry blond. He watched for a few moments, trying to place the pretty face that was doing an admirable job of holding her own until one of them thought to slip up behind her.
Azragael scowled and set the creature on fire, at which point the rest of them finally noticed him. Five seconds later he was alone with the beautifully flushed, panting, somewhat bedraggled strawberry blond. She looked up at him slowly, golden eyes widening as a light of recognition flickered through them, then she took a step forward. "Azragael..."
That was odd. Usually people ran away from him. This, then, was someone he liked? Or at least, hadn't tortured. The assortment of marbles, sparkly rocks, and bits of radioactive glitter that comprised his brain worked overtime trying to place the face. "I'm sorry," he said finally, "I know I know you, but you must understand that I've met an awful lot of people in my lifetime and sometimes it takes me a while to place them..."
The pretty lady laughed and grinned at him, exposing sharp fangs. "I'm not surprised," she said, somehow managing to appear the perfect, regal lady even dirty and with her clothing in tatters. "I never gave you my name. We were otherwise occupied with beer and dice, after all."
She winked, and suddenly Azragael remembered. The vampire chica with far too much luck over the dice and the twin vampire babies. What was she doing in the Dark Realms? If he recalled right, she'd won one of his rings of immortality off of him...
"So, are you going to give it now, or do I have to guess?" he asked, putting on his best 'make Lurizal less mad at me' grin.
She considered for a moment, then smiled. "Nesrin."
Azragael bowed courteously and extended his arm. "Well then, Lady Nesrin, I don't think Vaz will mind if I abscond with you back to my own Realm, and my palace is much nicer than this muck." He waved a hand dismissively at the squalid conditions around them.
Laughing, Nesrin accepted the proffered arm. A moment later both vanished, leaving behind only a few flickering flames.
Finding his old drinking buddy in the Dark Realms had been the highlight of Azragael's decade. Nesrin had taken to her new position as Azragael's chief of staff beautifully and in the course of two short weeks had the majority of his servants as terrified of her as they were of him. It made him so proud.
Yesterday, the obnoxious demon currently serving as his messenger had actually wet his pants when she glared at him. To celebrate properly, Azragael had hopped over to the mortal realm for a few cases of quality booze and had spent half the afternoon setting up the dining hall to resemble the earth tavern where they'd initially met, minus the piss stains. It didn't need to be completely authentic.
He was just setting the dice cup in its appropriate place when a brief swirl of power alerted him to an unexpected arrival. As he straightened and turned, Lurizal's familiar, disdainful voice carried through the air.
"Do I even want to ask what you're up to this time, Az?"
Azragael grinned, vanishing and reappearing right in front of Lurizal so he could use the opportunity of surprise to wrap his arms around the prickly demon and steal a searing kiss. "I'm celebrating."
Lurizal arched a pale brow. "Celebrating what?"
"Nesrin!" Azragael announced dramatically, flinging one arm out for added emphasis.
That pale brow slid up further. "Who or what is Nesrin?" Lurizal asked.
"Vampire chica," Azragael explained, putting the flung arm back where it belonged, somewhere in the vicinity of Lurizal's nicely firm ass. "Pretty thing. Beat me in a dice game once. I was drunk, so that may be why... Lots of fun. Baby vampires. I still want one. Though I guess they're not babies anymore..."
With an incredible amount of patience, Lurizal sighed. "Tell me you're not drunk already, Az."
Azragael sniffed indignantly. "Not yet, no. I just got done setting everything up. You want to stay and join us?" He considered. "Though, I don't know if I could handle both of you beating me..."
Lurizal rolled his eyes. "You manage to instinctively know things and events that won't occur for hundreds of years and you can't figure out how to predict the outcome of a simple dice game?"
Azragael blinked. "But if I knew all the answers already, what would be the fun in guessing?"
"To win?" Lurizal observed wryly.
"But..." Azragael's face scrunched up in thought. "But... then... but..."
"Try not to make him think too hard, Lord Lurizal," a warm, lilting voice interrupted with a soft laugh. "You might break his brain." A beautiful woman stood casually in the doorway, her long green and purple gown clinging to every generous curve of her voluptuous figure. A cascade of elaborate strawberry blond curls framed her face and spilled across her bare shoulders, bouncing as she walked toward them.
"To break it, he would first have to possess one," Lurizal commented, pale blue eyes watching the woman sharply. "I assume you are Nesrin?"
The woman curtsied. "That I am. I have heard much of you, my Lord."
Lurizal shot Azragael a look. "Do I want to know what he's told you?"
Nesrin laughed. "Well, he's successfully proven to me that it is indeed possible for Lords of Darkness to be absolutely and completely besotted with love." She shot Lurizal a sly smile. "I almost envy you, Lord Lurizal."
To his utter disgrace, a pale flush stained Lurizal's cheeks and he jerked his gaze away from those too-knowing eyes. "I don't envy me," he muttered. "It's annoying."
Both Nesrin and Azragael laughed, the latter choosing to thoroughly kiss away Lurizal's sullen pout until the blond demon was breathless and couldn't for the life of him remember what they'd been talking about. He allowed himself to be steered to a rather crude wooden chair, though he drew the line at actually sitting in it. Instead, he transformed it into a proper throne of black obsidian before seating himself.
Snickering quietly, Azragael pulled out another chair for the lady who completely ignored him and seated herself. They flashed matching grins at one another, and Azragael dropped into his seat. "Let the celebration begin!" he proclaimed, getting out a number of heavy mugs and filling them all with the booze he'd retrieved earlier.
Nesrin picked up a mug, klunked it with Azragael's, then promptly downed the entire thing. The flame-haired lord of darkness followed suit, then both looked expectantly to Lurizal.
"Let me guess," Lurizal sighed. "Being too drunk to think properly makes the game more fun." He shook his head and sipped his own glass, not about to guzzle it like the other two lunatics.
"Something like that," Nesrin agreed, scooping up the dice cup and shaking it as she shot Azragael a sharp-fanged grin. "Ready to lose again, demon?"
"In your dreams, vampire," Azragael shot back gleefully, refilling the tankards with a gesture.
In response, Nesrin slammed the cup down on the table and eyed him intently. Azragael leaned forward, matching her unblinkingly, then pronounced solemnly, "Five."
Nesrin's lips twisted up into a sly smile. "Nine."
As one, they turned to look pointedly at Lurizal. The blond demon wondered when and why he'd ever agreed to this, then sighed. "I don't know. Twelve?"
Azragael reached out and swept the cup up, revealing the two innocuous die beneath. Gold and flaming red-orange eyes stared for a moment, then those incredulous gazes turned to Lurizal, who scowled. "What?"
"Huh," Azragael muttered, poking at the matching sixes showing. "How'd he do that?"
"Beginner's luck," Nesrin announced cheerfully, scooping the die up and depositing them in the cup Azragael still held.
"Hmm..." Lurizal contemplated them both for a moment, then actually smiled ever so slightly. "So, if I win... what is my prize?"
Azragael and Nesrin shared a look, then Nesrin's crimson lips quirked into a positively devious smirk. "Oh, I think if your beginner's luck holds, Azragael should be on the bottom for once. Don't you agree, demon?" Her golden eyes never left Azragael's, though she laughed when the demon's eyes widened.
Lurizal considered thoughtfully, letting his gaze roam over the familiar form of his quirky lover, then matched Nesrin's smirk. "I think that sounds like a splendid prize, don't you, Az?"
Azragael looked from one to the other, then promptly took another guzzle of alcohol. "Fine," he agreed, "But if I win, you're not leaving my bed for a week. At least."
"Lady?" Lurizal looked to Nesrin with a new appreciation. "Choose your prize."
"My choice of Azragael's magical trinkets," she answered promptly, reaching out to take the cup of die from the demon in question.
Lurizal beat her to it, cupping his hand over the mouth and shaking it confidently. "Very well then," he murmured. "May be best man, or woman, win."