Having Not Been Asleep For Long, If Much At All, The Moment Had Passed Him By With The Voices Nearby.

this was honestly so frickin HOT

Two: Is there a problem?

Eight: Oh, nothing Shakespeare couldn’t turn into a really good play.

He couldn't guess when exactly he even fell asleep, to be honest. Maybe that was just part of what was going on with him these days, he had been having a lot of those moments. Azazel lay with his head pressed against the wheel of the car he had rented for the drive-in. Just some minutes before, he was watching the wide screen, a little annoyed at where his car was concerning it, but he supposed he was just going to have to live with it. Though the longer he sat that, the more he realized, he actually, fucking hated going to drive-ins. Too tired to do anything about it at that moment, he felt himself starting to lull into sleep as things started picking up on the screen.

The next thing he knew, he was dreaming of something far better than what was going on on the screen. Or maybe it was worse, either way, as he drifted farther off to sleep, his breathing picked up, minutes later, a layer of sweat started to form. Twitching here and there, he was having quite an episode, whatever he was dreaming. That was until something suddenly interrupted, perhaps, in his mind, a new horror, at that. Jerking up suddenly, he gasped, his hands pushed against the horn, sounding it off in the drive-in. Panting, he turned to look at Bandit as she was talking. Narrowing his eyes on the her he frowned, “Dammit, Bandit… “ Catching is breath, Azazel rolled down the window a bit, “Pink…dream boat…” Looking confused for a moment, he turned his head, glancing around them before gesturing to the passenger seat.

“Are you planning to crawl over my lap?! Why are you on this side of the car?” He asked in a whispered tone. Then looked toward the screen, yawning at the next question. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head, “I think it's a commercial at the moment, the first murder happened already.” Looking at Bandit as she seemed to bribe him with popcorn, he raised his eyebrows at that, then laughed a bit before mumbling, “Well, unless you're planning to crawl over my lap, you need to go around to the otherside- also, they didn't have candy?”

@withoutmonsterswebecomethem at the weekend of horrors, april 21st after 8PM

Bang, bang, bang, it was a thunderous incantation of her knuckles and a closed fist smacking against the driver's side door of the first familiar face that she had found, waiting for the snoozing driver to stir like a bear from hibernation, and when their eyes caught sight of movement inside, they bent themselves at a damn near ninety-degree angle to get their face as close to the window as they could without squishing their whole-ass cheek up against it and smiled widely, giving another knock for good measure. "Hey! Sleepin' beauty. Ya got room for one more in there? I ran out'a pocket change to spend on one'a these nice rentals and my pink dreamboat's in the shop." No, she wasn't talking about a man, or a woman, or anyone, for that matter — who was going to have the audacity to tie down Bandit Vaddhana, queen of sequins and glitter? — merely her beloved car who owned the two halves of her heart. It was with great disappointment that she found herself a bit crushed by the warbling of the screen and the distorted voices, a picture-in-picture she hadn't paid for appearing, and she pouted her lips. "Did I miss the flick already? Or is this some kind'a commercial break?" she ventured, her eyes wandering in the direction of the silver screen, and making a face. A little rude to interrupt a showgirl's only chance at horror comedy, but if they went back after the fact, she forgave them. "Anyway! I got popcorn with half ya name on it if you'll share the ride."

At the voice demanding something of him, he opened his eyes a crack, glaring slightly at the rudeness of it, before giving his excuses. Afterward, however, the narrowed gaze remained. Azazel wondered what some people had against sleeping outside, it wasn't that bad. Clicking his tongue, he moved to sit up and looked around as Hux went on. Not really concerned with the danger, he moved to stretch and laughed hollowly, “If it's dangerous in the middle of the day, I'd hate to see how dangerous it will be when the night comes.” He wasn't too concerned with direct danger at the moment, though. No one would be stupid enough to propose many issues at this time of day. If they did, the knife in his backpack might help dissuade them. Crossing his arms over his chest, he's sitting, slouched, against the bench and watching Hux.

“What danger do you see right now? Hm?” Quirking an eyebrow as he asked this, he wanted to know what the other might consider a danger in the afternoon, to someone snoozing on a bench, crowded by people as they made their way from one booth to the other. Though he wasn't so ignorant as to not realize that, if someone intelligent were to attack at this time, with this crowd, they could very easily slip off. But still, the odds weren't likely, as he had nothing worth stealing, anything that could be stolen, he considered, was maybe a handful of Benjamins, and little else. Which he wasn't too concerned with losing. Azazel held his gaze intensely on Hux, before he continued, “Well? Where's the danger? Is it in the crowd around us today?” He teases a bit.

Of course, he wasn't silly enough to not factor that, percentage-wise, there had to be many dangers in the crowd with them, that day, or any other day, really. But, he was aiming at a more direct target of threat, possibly Hux himself, for even having brought it up in the first place. Azazel's gaze held, dark abyssal pools, staring back at the other, watching Hux intently. Waiting for the others' answer.

Easy food is always appreciated, specially after fate decided to keep other people coming this way for some reason. Hux was just an animal, he had no problem on accepting that, but as the apex predator, he still had some sort of control.

If there's something Hux is good at is at remembering faces; trauma built him that way and there's some recollection of seeing this person around the strip. Call it a sudden rush of benevolence or the idea of crippling guilt, but he knew that if he was there, others with way less decorum could or would be here soon. "Hey. Wake up". Voice deep and and intense unblinking stare, one could've swear there was a strange glow in his eyes for an instant as he towered over the other resting on the bench. "Shouldn't be sleeping here. It's dangerous. Go home".

With his eyes barely opened, he looked at the other as she spoke after clearing her throat. Azazel exhaled before opening his eyes and darting them around the space around them, sure he wouldn't get any sleep now. Tucking a hand under his head, he pressed it against his backpack he had tucked under his head, and listened to the other, closing his eyes for a moment more before starting to push himself up. Sitting, he slouched, before bending at his waist, bringing his right hand to rub his right eye, a yawn leaving him as the request penetrated his ears. He should say 'no', he didn't know her, it would have made sense.

But as he looked up at her again, he got a slight sense of the little sloth, even if just in part. Resting his head in his right hand, he mustered up a grin, trying to rest his right elbow against his right leg, but that only made everything more uncomfortable. So, instead, he sat up straight again, leaning against the back of the bench he had come to rest on. It was a strange request. But he supposed he could entertain it, or a little while, even if his paranoid mind was lighting up with all sorts of red flags. It did that regardless, making it hard to focus on the real ones, from the ones he might be gaslighting himself with.

Regardless, Azazel took a deep breath, rubbing his hands for a moment against his thighs and then forced a grin, trying to hide how nervous he was deep down, “Sure! Why not? You're not wrong, I suppose-” Pausing, he looked around, regardless of his internal thoughts, it was still true, it was lonely in the crowd. He had known this better than he would like to admit, being alone in a crowded room, having been a place he resided often. Taking his backpack, he stood and pulled the straps over his shoulders, patting the bottom of the pack, adjusting the contents inside. Then he moved his hand quickly out in front of him, gesturing for the other to lead the way.

marisol had always loved halloween. the spookiness, the fun tricks. at westbeth, they used to have trick or treating, but musical. where you had to hum a tune in order to get candy. this wasn’t westbeth, but it was her new home. Browsing the stalls, she found a few trinkets that caught her eye, that she picked up along the way. after a while, though, she felt loneliness creeping up inside her, and she knew she couldn’t brave this alone.. coming to a bench, she noticed someone sleeping, and quietly cleared her throat. “not to interrupt your rest,” she says sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head, “but i was wondering if you wanted to hang out, together? it’s kind of lonely being out here alone, surrounded by people. i get that's kind of an oxymoron, but, hang out with me? please?" wow, way to sound desperate, solly.

“All I feel are the assaults of apprehension and terror at the thought that I am the only one who is entirely unlike the rest. It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people. What should I talk about, how should I say it?—I don't know.” -Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human, 1948.