creeping up the backstairs, mother's nightmare

[molotovmartinis.livejournal.com]

Who: Hamilton Fish esq. and Balthazar
What: RELEASE THE HOUND. JUST THE ONE HOUND.
Where: the Valhalla Inn arrival room
When: well, night...
Notes: oh hi friend
Warnings: Bugs Bunny style face smooching look I can't that's so hideous


Still not entirely certain this isn't some kind of bizarre scenario designed to make him further incriminate himself for Hell's entertainment, leading to even more hilarious torture, Balthazar stands quite still, very near to the door. With all the protective... whatever is going on in or on it or intrinsic to the material, he can't really feel outside the room with his creepy pseudo-psychic senses. He doesn't know if there's anybody waiting, or who might answer the door, or if the person that does open it will have any significance. He thinks, though doubt creeps in from time to time, that he just knows Hell's little quirks after so many years — it's a part of him, how can he not? — but the possibility lingers and nags. If he were younger, he might straighten his tie. As it is, he knows full well that his entire appearance can no more be disheveled than a Ken doll (Constantine tossing him around aside). The tightening occurs entirely in his mind, pulling his appearance and aura together so bad vibes aren't continuously leaking through the way he usually allows them to.

He knocks. It's polite, because there's not much smarm you can inject into that kind of thing.

Comments

[molotovmartinis.livejournal.com]

"How civilized." He touches his tie absently (or, okay, not really absently, but playing at it), clearly thinking and turning over this idea in his head, coming to grips with it, though it isn't half as hard as he's pretending it is. "So it would be safe to venture out right now? I don't think I could sleep. I would rather look around."

[fish]

"Yeah, for sure." Since there's movement going on, Fish's eyes end up on buddy's hand there, and gosh, that's kind of an ugly tie. "I'd, uh..." He's not sure how he feels about the tie—no, he likes it. "Um. I'd offer to show you around, but I'm kinda...working... and stuff."

Yes. Working.

[molotovmartinis.livejournal.com]

"Aw, thanks," he says and it is seriously the most unnatural thing he has said in many, many years. Not that saying it bothers him, in fact he finds it pretty funny, but it is undeniably just. Jarring, even though he's 'acting'. "Another time, maybe. You don't want to have to deal with my tourist gawking anyway."

Well, that came out better, and he smiles nicely, even. "Thanks again, Fish."

[fish]

"Um...you're welcome." Fish seems to be trying to stifle an actual grin now, sort of bashfully, although he does maintain eye contact. (Mostly.) "If you need anything, like during your stay, if you're staying, I'm at the desk. I mean, I work at the desk. Every night."