warringly | Closed; It's Sinning Time

[The air is cool and damp in the night. Fog starts to roll in from the woods that surrounds the little truck stop at the edge of a crossroads. The bright light of the sign and gas lights around the station hum as moths flutter and tap against the glass. The tired man parks his little bus in the parking lot beside some truckers, and slowly he makes his way inside the after he throws his cigarette to the ground and steps on it with his boot. Even though he isn't a truck driver, the late night dinner is a welcomed sight for sore eyes. It has been a rough couple of nights and shitty coffee and pancakes have never looked so good.

He takes a seat at the bar. The waitress gives him a tired smile and doesn't even ask if he wants a cup of whatever it is they are brewing. She figures if he is here this late then he is here for a pick me up. He smiled back to her and takes a sip. It's bitter and taste like it's burnt or been on the burner too long, but it's better than being alone in his camper. While he does enjoy being on his own, there are some points where he needs the human interaction, and the chatter of wait staff and truckers playing pool is fine with him.

His hands run through his hair as he places the mug back down. His fingers glide down to his head and the beads of the rosary that hang there. His eyes narrow just slightly as he turns in his seat and crosses his arms. There is a demon here, he knows it. It's the reason he's come here. Of course like any good demon hunter, he is prepared.]

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[ Oh, those religious folks are so brazen these days, coming to a crossroads during the witching hours of night. Utterly bold to seek out one such as him on his own turf. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious what this world-weary priest had planned -- other than the obvious task of banishing him back from whence he came (or worse). He can practically smell the worldly life on him, the greed, gluttony, and lust all rolled into one. It's as plain to him as the stench of cigarette smoke clinging to the priest's clothes.

It prompts to sit up, to stand out as someone who doesn't belong. A mere heartbeat before he looked like any other sad sack drinking shitty coffee at an all-night truck stop. If anyone saw the change, they'd quickly brush it off as a figment, remember him exactly as he is now: pale, polished, and well-dressed. Illusion is merely one gift granted to him; one of the perks of being more than a mere demon. If only this hunter knew what he faces.

If the priest is bold, it's his duty to meet with boldness. He slips out of his booth, crossing the dingy diner in perfect silence and ethereal grace -- why not? What's a demon but another sort of angel? He slides into the seat beside the priest and clanks his coffee mug against the counter to draw attention. ]

[Cullen's eye go to the man who stands from the booth. His eyes narrow. He could have sworn that he was just a fat and greasy looking driver, not the pale and stunning man before him now. Even he has to admit that there is a bewitching beauty to this man, especially in the way he nearly glides across the floor.

He was to stunning to be human. That much is obvious to the well trained eye. The fact that he came out of hiding, that must mean that he knows Cullen is at least a priest. Maybe not an exorcist, and hopefully he didn't give off more than needed. He remains ever so calm and stoic as the demon comes to the seat next to him and he takes another drink.]

Are you manners not working at the moment? Or do you like to just make noise?

[ Jack cants his head slowly to look at the priest, an ever slower smile spreading across too-red lips. He turns his head, sweeping his eyes about the diner to take not of the fact that no one's looking their way. ]

Take a look around you, Father. No one here stands on ceremony. I see no need to use that which is not appreciated in present company. But... [ He pauses, leaving enough silent space to allow anticipation to grow. ] To answer the question posed, I do indeed like to make noise. A lot of it.

[ Another pause, this one brief. His eyes sparkle with an inhuman sort of madness and he catches his lower lip with his teeth and lets it slide free. ] Perhaps you'd care to help me in that endeavour?

[The madness in the demon's eyes makes Cullen's skin crawl. The fact that the demon used his title makes him wonder if he was at all subtle, or maybe this demon was more than he was use too. Either way he wasn't about to show fear or worried. The only thing that did show was his frown at the demon's suggestion. While it could be taken with another meaning, Cullen was more focused on the job than how perfect and even desirable that the demon looked. His first thought was that the demon wanted to fight him.]

If we are going to make noise I'd rather it be away from others.

[ A smile with the promise of wickedness flashes across his face. His brows lift and he laughs, the sound equal parts musical and enticing -- like a siren's call. Warmth fills his eyes and he leans in closer, presenting to the world an image of intimacy. ]

Now, now, Father. I think you of all people would know I don't like to draw unwanted attention. Why don't we ask for the bathroom key?

[The sound makes goosebumps appear on the back of his neck. It's a beautiful and sinful voice, and one that calls to him as it would to any human. But he had more will power than that, even as the demon come closer to him with a lustful look in his eyes.

Bathroom-

[His eyebrows furrow and then his eyes quickly widen with realization as to what the demon maybe talking about. His neck turns red with a full body blush as his cheeks grow hot.]

That's the last thing I want from the likes of you.

[ What a delicious reaction! A toothy grin cracks and he laughs once more, eyes bright with amusement. ]

Is it?

[ The amusement melts away, leaving a thoughtful look like concentration on the face staring back at Cullen. He leans in closer still, canting his head, and inhaling deeply. ]

Is it really? You're a worldly man. I can smell it on you: vice. Did you think turning to the cloth would hide that? Come now, I can give you what you want, Father; what you need.

The cloth gives me strength to resist, and I will not have you take that from me.

[He doesn't want to fight with people around them. They could be in danger, and he was starting to think that he has bitten off maybe more than he excepted. He isn't about to give in though.]

Now move, unless you prefer I start reciting scripture here.

[ This time when he smiles it's all teeth and no mirth. Challenge shines in his eyes. He has the feeling this priest is vastly underestimating the sort of foe he's facing. Ah, well, all the more fun to watch him try and fail. He glances around, then lowers his voice. ]

Do your worst.

[Maybe he is. He has only dealt with lesser demons. This one seems like a horse of a different color. But a horse is still a horse even if it smiles pretty and talks too smoothly.

He moves with purpose up and out of the chair. He takes a step and pulls on the demon's arm to carry him with him.]

No unwanted attention, right?

[those were the demon's words. Might we ell use them to get him to move]

[ He rises easily from his teeth, smile spreading wide as if he's amused by Cullen's eagerness to leave. Best to put on a good show, after all. He steps closer, dropping his voice to little more than a breathless whisper. ]

We could just kill the witnesses.

[ He already knows the answer to his suggestion, he's just waiting see the look of revulsion paint itself over the priest's face. In truth, unnecessary killing isn't his style either. One doesn't keep a low profile by murdering everyone in sight, after all. ]

Alright, I'll play this game your way. Where shall we go?

[His entire body tenses as the demon leans closer and whispers to him. He knows how this looks, but there is little he can do to stop him right now. And a part of him almost liked that he was so close...but that was probably the demon trying to affect him.]

Away from here.

[And he isn't afraid to push him out the door either.]

That's very non-specific.

[ He whines, pouting all the way to the door. He stays close to the priest, making sure to violate his personal space every step of the way. Something about this holy man who'd had a worldly life appeals to him. He can smell the lingering remnants of that sinful life on his skin. ]

Are you planning to hurt me, Father? You should know I like that.

Closed; It's Sinning Time

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