cape_kore | [ video ]

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[ video ] - Day 163

[ Guess who's back from the dead? That's right, everybody's favourite resident demon! Of course, she's lacking a little of her usual sass and sparkle - apparently being thrown to the wolves - quite literally (if by wolves we mean hellhounds) - has that effect on a person. ]

Hello Cape Kore. Did you miss me? [ There's a smirk, but it's strained. ]

Did you get the stray puppy population under control while I was on my unscheduled vacation or you all still waiting for the dog warden to show up?

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[She shakes her head. It's Meg's wine, technically. Fortescue is only sharing it, and there's still a bottle left.

If she drinks much more, she worries about her ability to get back to her room.]

Why, thank you. I feel the same way. Not many people do frowns well. [Fortescue considers.] Mostly, just men with nicely chiseled jaws, I think.

[ Would staying the night be so terrible? Just don't expect Meg to be sympathetic to any impending hangovers. She's not that kind. Since she likes Fortescue though, she'd probably be less noisy than with someone she didn't like. ]

Nicely chiseled jaws? Yeah. I know a few of those.

[It would certainly not be a tragedy to make this wine party an all-nighter. Fortescue chuckles.]

Here, or where you come from?

[She can't claim to have a weakness for too many specific things. A great deal of variety gets Fortescue's motor running, so to speak.]

Both.

[ Variety is the spice of life! Who wants to stick with the same thing day in, day out? That's just boring! ]

[She considers, running her mind through the list of likely candidates here, and then nods in agreement.]

I'm certainly not wanting for attractive company. Present company included, of course, though your jaw is a bit more round.

[Which just flatters her face more than the alternative.]

I could always take over the body of some hunk of a guy next time if you prefer.

[ She smirks. Meatsuits are like outfits to demons, after all, they can change whenever. ]

[Fortescue half-raises an eyebrow. Truthfully, she doesn't really care about Meg not asking permission as, she understands, the angels have to. Not out of a sense of morality, but simply that she can't bring herself to care. Caring about too much has become more difficult, as of late. She only has energy for the things that impact her, in truth. Time will tell if her ability to give much of a damn returns.]

Oh, no, darling. [She leans forward to place a light kiss on the end of Meg's nose.] You work marvelously, I assure you.

I'll be sure not to let the compliments go to my head.

[ Not caring about the world is so much easier, Fortescue. Trust Meg on this, the not giving a fuck about anyone but yourself is so much easier than messy feelings for other people. Whoever invented empathy needs smacking in the face, and whoever invented love should be tortured for all eternity. ]

[The magus smirks.]

Save them for a rainy day.

[All of her feelings are messy, and she sometimes wishes that she didn't have them. But she has them, and that's that. All she can do now is just drink them into a stupor.]

And the bottle of wine, for that matter. Though we wouldn't know, perhaps, if it was raining outside.

What I wouldn't give to play a few games of tag with a mechanical bear right about now.

[ Hey, even a demon can miss the fresh air. ]

[Fortescue laughs quietly.]

You know what, I wouldn't object, either. At least we'd be outdoors. And, well, there's a certain thrill to running for one's life, of course.

Perhaps we could simply smash our way out. Though I imagine the machine wouldn't be too happy with us if we tried...

You'd think, with the brawn we've collected here, someone would have already tried that by now. The fellow with the hammer, perhaps, or one of the angels... I'm afraid my bit of brawniness might cause more harm than good.

Hm. Maybe the brawn need a little brains to point them in the right direction?

That's always the way, I find. We should find a wrecking ball and figure out the right direction to point it, I suppose.

I approve of this plan. And hey, if we don't find a way out, at least we'll have new spaces.

[Fortescue chuckles quietly, laying back on the bed.]

Let's just hope they don't actually have skeletons in the walls, hm?

[ Comfy there, Fortescue? ]

We could always build thrones of bones and declare ourselves Queens of this place if there are.

[She does, in fact, look very comfortable, stretching out her arms.]

You stick the bone throne. It'd be a good look for you. [She grins.] I'll make mine out of empty wine bottles.

In that case, we might have to drink more to ensure you have enough bottles. We couldn't have you sitting on an incomplete throne now, could we?

[Fortescue smiles.]

You have a point, darling. Too few bottles and it might just look like a rubbish pile. Queen of the Rubbish Pile is a far less impressive position.

You would, however, make the prettiest trash queen the place has ever seen.

[She flutters her eyelashes.]

You're too kind, really. [With a quiet laugh,] That's not very difficult, anyway. The other trash queens in this place are all rats.

And those rats got nothing on you, sugar.

[ Aw Fort. If she wasn't a demon, then Meg could very easily fall in love with you! ]

I'd be worried if they did. [But compliments are always nice. Very nice, even.] But you're right. I think more wine is definitely in order.

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