05-29-2018, 09:58 PM
![[Image: jgC0ptA.png]](https://i.imgur.com/jgC0ptA.png)
Bastille smiled, lopsided and triumphant, as the girl indulged him and took another pull from the handle -- this time with more preparation for the acid sting. At the sound of Rose's voice, however, the girl looked embarrassed, her face flushing as if she'd been caught in the wrong for indulging her drunken Seraph. Bast, however, didn't seem in the slightest bit bothered by the interruption. He peered up at Rosegarden with a lopsided grin, looking coy, and evidently had entirely forgotten about the incident with Suite. She had vastly underestimated just how drunk he was, and he slurred blearily, "Umm, maybe you're not overdoing it enough, Rosie..." A pause, as the nickname rolled off his tongue, and he started laughing. "That's my mother's name. New name, I guess. Roo-sie. Did you want some? I'd share with you, not-mom."
Luckily, it seemed that while the girl was flustered with the sudden audience, she hadn't pulled her hand back. Bastille held onto her fingers with delight; Zaniel may have a less than innocent craving for contact, but Bast was genuinely just a tactile person, and he hadn't had any real contact with any one in days. Her hand was warm and his skin was warmer with the pleased flush of alcohol, and he was still grinning when he cocked his head backwards and studied Margy upside down as she approached them. "But what a way to go," he said cheerfully, tilting his head back forward to smile angelically at the girl, "Probably wouldn't feel a thing. Also, she's cute, so I'd rather die here." He winked at her as she flushed even harder, but Bast was already considering Margy again.
His teal blue stare was clearly off, and not just because the coloring was wrong -- his eyes were feverishly bright and unfocused, flickering over the vampire briefly. He felt a brief surge of temptation, an easy line on his tongue, but while Zaniel may be willing to flirt with anything that moved, Bast was still somewhat bound by his typical inclinations towards people and evidently the familial bond he had with Margy crossed the barriers of his souls. Hell, he was drunk enough to forget that he was angry with her, but evidently there wasn't a drunk enough state that would make him let Zaniel -- let himself hit on his mother. That was... good, at least.
"Vodka loooves me," he said, smiling impishly as he added, "It's always been good to me." That was simultaneously a blatant lie and the complete truth -- Bastille had never had vodka in his life, swearing off of it and pretending to prefer wine, but Zaniel was drunk every day of the damn year and loved his damn vodka and at that moment? He didn't have any form of differentiation between the too, too gone to remind himself that he wasn't Zaniel and these weren't his memories.
He turned his attention back to the girl as Margy spoke, and eyed her thorough as he drawled playfully, "Whaa'? I have literally, never once, seen such beauty in my life." Another of those blinding smiles as the girl looked ready to die from embarrassment, evidently having realized she'd put herself in the spotlight by entertaining him. He cocked his head to the side and pouted at Margy, slurring, "Why would you even sayyyy that? She's lovely."
He seemed to forget about his protest as Margy decided to join them, however, and he was almost immediately distracted by her proximity as she stole the bottle from the girl. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he lit up with the sudden realization that oh, that was right, she had her fangs. "You know, I don't really remember the last time a vampy bit me while drunk," he said slowly, biting down on his lower lip in consideration before he grinned, "But I promise you it was divine. Feeling thirsty?"
He didn't realize that Luna and Suite were joining them until Suite was shooing the girl away, who looked flustered and embarrassed as she awkwardly extracted her hand and obediently shuffled away. Bastille pouted up at Suite now, but was too drunk to really process who he was seeing. All he could see were baby blue eyes and hear the lilting brush of French in his thoughts -- hell, she even had the dignified look of disapproval when he did something that wasn't very gentlemanly. He could feel his thoughts wavering between his memories and Zaniel's, and the French was crisp and easy on his tongue as he slurred, "Maaaman! Qu'avez-vous fait ça?"
He stuck his tongue out at Luna when he realized that she was giving him the look as well, but forgot why he was pouting the second that someone plopped down to fill the void that his friend had left behind -- Hazel, actually. How hadn't he noticed her sparkling aura approaching? He lit up in delight, and immediately reached forward, his fingers slipping through hers as he forgot entirely that he wasn't supposed to touch her. She was babbling at him in Latin, but he was too distracted by the hot glow of her aura as he slurred, "Lumen meum! Why're you sooooooo... warm? Your aura's s' hot, it's, like, molten. More molten. Not as soft gold glowly, but dark gold glowy."
He nodded earnestly as he spoke, the ramifications of her aura reading lost on him when he couldn't even process or focus on what she was saying, only on the warm-fuzzy-glow of her golden light and the heat from her fingers for as long as he could hold them captive. He could feel the sudden surge of Zaniel's influence as the startling reminder of Frenchie dimmed somewhat in the face of another pretty girl, and his radiant smile went sly. He didn't get the chance to say anything to her, however, before she was already switching to English and laying into him.
For a moment, Bastille just stared back at her, brow furrowed slightly as he struggled to understand what the hell she was even saying to him. His free hand went to the star hanging from his neck, but he only looked more confused as his sluggish thoughts struggled to keep up, as he waded through the press of Zaniel's memories. He didn't... have any clue what she was saying, frankly, and he mumbled in a slur, "Ummm... I don't.... Wha?" He looked lost, and a hint of that pouty look was coming out once more, drunkenly and quite childishly distressed by her refusal to smile back at him. He rarely encountered someone who wouldn't entertain him, and her aura was so pretty. His teal stare flickered very briefly to ice blue, but it was so fleeting that it was easy to miss as he pulled at her hand a bit and huffed, [b]"Do you need some? You're not being 'ery niice."
[ "Maaaman! Qu'avez-vous fait ça?" -- "Mooom! Why'd you do that?"
"Lumen meum" -- "my light" ]
Luckily, it seemed that while the girl was flustered with the sudden audience, she hadn't pulled her hand back. Bastille held onto her fingers with delight; Zaniel may have a less than innocent craving for contact, but Bast was genuinely just a tactile person, and he hadn't had any real contact with any one in days. Her hand was warm and his skin was warmer with the pleased flush of alcohol, and he was still grinning when he cocked his head backwards and studied Margy upside down as she approached them. "But what a way to go," he said cheerfully, tilting his head back forward to smile angelically at the girl, "Probably wouldn't feel a thing. Also, she's cute, so I'd rather die here." He winked at her as she flushed even harder, but Bast was already considering Margy again.
His teal blue stare was clearly off, and not just because the coloring was wrong -- his eyes were feverishly bright and unfocused, flickering over the vampire briefly. He felt a brief surge of temptation, an easy line on his tongue, but while Zaniel may be willing to flirt with anything that moved, Bast was still somewhat bound by his typical inclinations towards people and evidently the familial bond he had with Margy crossed the barriers of his souls. Hell, he was drunk enough to forget that he was angry with her, but evidently there wasn't a drunk enough state that would make him let Zaniel -- let himself hit on his mother. That was... good, at least.
"Vodka loooves me," he said, smiling impishly as he added, "It's always been good to me." That was simultaneously a blatant lie and the complete truth -- Bastille had never had vodka in his life, swearing off of it and pretending to prefer wine, but Zaniel was drunk every day of the damn year and loved his damn vodka and at that moment? He didn't have any form of differentiation between the too, too gone to remind himself that he wasn't Zaniel and these weren't his memories.
He turned his attention back to the girl as Margy spoke, and eyed her thorough as he drawled playfully, "Whaa'? I have literally, never once, seen such beauty in my life." Another of those blinding smiles as the girl looked ready to die from embarrassment, evidently having realized she'd put herself in the spotlight by entertaining him. He cocked his head to the side and pouted at Margy, slurring, "Why would you even sayyyy that? She's lovely."
He seemed to forget about his protest as Margy decided to join them, however, and he was almost immediately distracted by her proximity as she stole the bottle from the girl. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he lit up with the sudden realization that oh, that was right, she had her fangs. "You know, I don't really remember the last time a vampy bit me while drunk," he said slowly, biting down on his lower lip in consideration before he grinned, "But I promise you it was divine. Feeling thirsty?"
He didn't realize that Luna and Suite were joining them until Suite was shooing the girl away, who looked flustered and embarrassed as she awkwardly extracted her hand and obediently shuffled away. Bastille pouted up at Suite now, but was too drunk to really process who he was seeing. All he could see were baby blue eyes and hear the lilting brush of French in his thoughts -- hell, she even had the dignified look of disapproval when he did something that wasn't very gentlemanly. He could feel his thoughts wavering between his memories and Zaniel's, and the French was crisp and easy on his tongue as he slurred, "Maaaman! Qu'avez-vous fait ça?"
He stuck his tongue out at Luna when he realized that she was giving him the look as well, but forgot why he was pouting the second that someone plopped down to fill the void that his friend had left behind -- Hazel, actually. How hadn't he noticed her sparkling aura approaching? He lit up in delight, and immediately reached forward, his fingers slipping through hers as he forgot entirely that he wasn't supposed to touch her. She was babbling at him in Latin, but he was too distracted by the hot glow of her aura as he slurred, "Lumen meum! Why're you sooooooo... warm? Your aura's s' hot, it's, like, molten. More molten. Not as soft gold glowly, but dark gold glowy."
He nodded earnestly as he spoke, the ramifications of her aura reading lost on him when he couldn't even process or focus on what she was saying, only on the warm-fuzzy-glow of her golden light and the heat from her fingers for as long as he could hold them captive. He could feel the sudden surge of Zaniel's influence as the startling reminder of Frenchie dimmed somewhat in the face of another pretty girl, and his radiant smile went sly. He didn't get the chance to say anything to her, however, before she was already switching to English and laying into him.
For a moment, Bastille just stared back at her, brow furrowed slightly as he struggled to understand what the hell she was even saying to him. His free hand went to the star hanging from his neck, but he only looked more confused as his sluggish thoughts struggled to keep up, as he waded through the press of Zaniel's memories. He didn't... have any clue what she was saying, frankly, and he mumbled in a slur, "Ummm... I don't.... Wha?" He looked lost, and a hint of that pouty look was coming out once more, drunkenly and quite childishly distressed by her refusal to smile back at him. He rarely encountered someone who wouldn't entertain him, and her aura was so pretty. His teal stare flickered very briefly to ice blue, but it was so fleeting that it was easy to miss as he pulled at her hand a bit and huffed, [b]"Do you need some? You're not being 'ery niice."
[ "Maaaman! Qu'avez-vous fait ça?" -- "Mooom! Why'd you do that?"
"Lumen meum" -- "my light" ]
[align=center]![[Image: 4ySBjji.png]](https://i.imgur.com/4ySBjji.png)
the ascendants — astral seraph — tags
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Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]