"I always take my time drinking." He looks over at the vampire, expression flat. "Immortality gives you forever and you waste it chugging piss?" The angel is incredulous, not just because of the idea that one would live forever drinking crap booze but also the oversharing.
"We get along well enough." The fighting honestly keep things interesting, even when it got a bit mean and damaging.
The display is enough to get the drunk angel into a full chuckle until his sides hurt. The arrogance devolving into this mess before him is pricelessly entertaining. Nor is it the first time he's seen someone go insane and mute from Lucifer entering the room.
Lucifer pauses in his forward movement to greet his warlord when Toby falls on his knees at his feet. His gaze turns down critical, judgmental, of the scene being caused in his presence. However, the vampire chooses one of few words that make this angel see red.
"I am no god." The words are venomous, cold, and discontent. Lucifer hated being called a god, loathed it. The prattling only irritates him more on top of the groveling appearance. Haughtily his eyes turn away, chin lifted and aloof as he steps around the person on the floor to address Beelzebub.
"Who is the drunken tart?" Lucifer asks as he casts his gaze back on the uncouth spectacle.
Beelzebub glances up as he sets the bottle aside still laughing though more quietly now. He looks over the table motioning with his glass toward Toby. "He wants a bottle of your brandy... or something?"
The way the vampire reacted seemed to suggest something other than Brandy was wanted but it was Lucifer's game now. Sitting back with some drinks, and pretzels, was probably the best way to watch this unfold in Beelzebub's estimation.
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"We get along well enough." The fighting honestly keep things interesting, even when it got a bit mean and damaging.
The display is enough to get the drunk angel into a full chuckle until his sides hurt. The arrogance devolving into this mess before him is pricelessly entertaining. Nor is it the first time he's seen someone go insane and mute from Lucifer entering the room.
Lucifer pauses in his forward movement to greet his warlord when Toby falls on his knees at his feet. His gaze turns down critical, judgmental, of the scene being caused in his presence. However, the vampire chooses one of few words that make this angel see red.
"I am no god." The words are venomous, cold, and discontent. Lucifer hated being called a god, loathed it. The prattling only irritates him more on top of the groveling appearance. Haughtily his eyes turn away, chin lifted and aloof as he steps around the person on the floor to address Beelzebub.
"Who is the drunken tart?" Lucifer asks as he casts his gaze back on the uncouth spectacle.
Beelzebub glances up as he sets the bottle aside still laughing though more quietly now. He looks over the table motioning with his glass toward Toby. "He wants a bottle of your brandy... or something?"
The way the vampire reacted seemed to suggest something other than Brandy was wanted but it was Lucifer's game now. Sitting back with some drinks, and pretzels, was probably the best way to watch this unfold in Beelzebub's estimation.