What Will Azazel Do… If They're Being Threatened?

Waiting patiently for the other to show up, he knew it might take a moment or so, given which neighbor this was. He supposed he had a lot more in common with them, now, than he did before. Though in spite of that, he wasn't turning into more agoraphobic behavior, he had to keep up appearances, in the face of constant hounding on where he had been for so long in his absence. Azazel breathed, bringing a hand up to brush against the potted plant, trying to keep that same energy even now.

Seeing a movement at the blinds, he tilted his head a bit. Then looked to the door the moment the other came to and opened it, “Hey-” He glanced away, looking across the neighborhood, sure others were again watching him. Watching them. Closing his eyes a moment, he laughed a bit before opening his eyes and staring over at Alice's place, “Yeah. Everything's…well, great? I guess? Considering everything.” Adjusting the potted plant, he turned more toward Seokmin, giving the other his full attention, “Just been out watering my yard-and noticed I had too much-uhm, stuff. So I'm taking it over to a friend's. But wanted to stop by, check in-” Glancing toward the stack of papers, and having remembered the overgrowth of the yard, he figured the other was alive, but that it was good to check, just in case, “What about you, get out lately?”

existing somewhere between collapse and endurance, seokmin moved through life like someone walking a fraying tightrope: careful, numb, always bracing for the inevitable fall. survival, after all, was still survival — even if it had long since ceased to resemble anything like living. the lawn had grown wild, grass in need of a cut; a few sun-bleached newspapers forgotten about on the porch, their headlines irrelevant now — not that they’d ever been read in the first place. and yet, there was something almost charming about the chaos. a scattering of stubborn plants clung to life, climbing trellises and curling along the siding; to some, it might have even looked like a quaint, overgrown cottage, tucked into its own little jungle. it was a nice place to return to after a long day ( or night ) at work. luckily, there was no need to leave the shelter of his humble abode tonight. his security jacket hung untouched by the door, a silent confirmation that, for the next twenty-four hours, he could exist separately from the outside world — just the way he preferred it. which made the knock at the door all the stranger. who could possibly need him now? whatever it was, it seemed urgent enough — the noise grating. reluctance settled in his chest. seokmin moved soundlessly across the room, pausing by one of the windows to peek out of one the blinds, lifted just enough to see without being seen. always cautious. always on edge. it was only his neighbour. still wary, but less so upon seeing a friendly face on the other side, he unlocked the door and opened it. “hi, azazel,” he greeted, clearing his throat. “what, um… is everything okay?”

“Some people aren’t loyal to you, they are loyal to their need of you. Once their needs change, so does their loyalty.”

— Unknown

What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

He is often wearing more elegant and/or practical outfits. This is frequently his daily attire, predominantly suits, but anything along those lines tends to be what he's often seen to be wearing, no matter what. Typically appearing in respectable outfits, more than in filthy or excessively expensive, or fancy outfits. Azazel defaults to outfits of this style because he likes to look presentable, and perhaps even at times blend into his surroundings. He will certainly change what he wears, but keep within the same style of what he's into wearing. Due to the weather becoming hotter, he's wearing more loose and showy outfits. Generally, in cool, wintery, or lighter colors, regardless of temperature conditions. He has been known to also dress in grunge, gothic, and biker aesthetic styles, especially when he was younger. But these days he sticks mostly to suits when working, or simpler outfits on his days off. Examples.

Shifting, he spoke into his cellphone, one of the newer versions of the time. It cost him a great sum of cash, but it was an important purchase. Seemingly only idly chatting, he looked around him, seeing the forming crowd, then nodded his head, “Yeah, yeah. I'll swing by in a bit. I got him something.” Turning his head, he watched the crowd for a bit, narrowing his eyes as he thought he had seen something, but then shook his head. It was just his imagination. Hanging up after a brief moment of goodbyes, he tucked the phone away on his person. Walking out of the crowd, finally. He felt a weight lifting off of him and felt at least a little safer now that things were a little settled down.

Until his forearm was grabbed suddenly. He forgot the facade he had been putting on for a fraction of a second as he froze in place. Slowly, he turned his head to meet his eyes with the blonde who was currently gripping his arm. Swallowing, he lifted his head a little bit. Listening to Samantha as she spoke, he made a face, “Ah, I think so? Why wouldn't it?” He looked toward the snack bar, then back to Samantha. He wasn't quite sure what the woman said next. Ducking his head a little at that, he frowned, “Who is? Where? Are you okay?”

where : alley by the drive-in when : april 21st, before 8 pm who : @boneyardstarters

HER HEARTBEAT FELT AS IF IT WAS POUNDING IN THROAT, unable to find her voice even after the masked stranger had grown frustrated with her lack of answers regarding any bikers in the area (as if Samantha could've been any help there at all, as her mind was still initially racing from witnessing the bleeding lump of what she hoped was a still living person deeper in the alley). It didn't take long for the masked person to get lost in the crowd and without the pressure of someone demanding answers out of her, the blonde was able to gasp out a, "Help!" before coughing in an attempt to clear her throat to something more understandable and less frantic. One hand shot out to curl around the closest person's forearm, an act of desperation to grab someone's attention in the sea of people. "Do you know if the drive-in has a landline in their snack bar? There's a man and-" How much blood could be lost before a life was? Finding out the question to such an answer didn't seem to be the most helpful train of thought in that moment, but it was where her mind resided. "I think he's bleeding out."

Bring It On (2000) dir. Peyton Reed

Missy telling off the cheerleaders practicing at the eleventh hour requested by anons

Knocking his head lightly from side to side, he had agreed. Though anything was usually comfy for him, as he could fall asleep like a baby on solid concrete, or a spiked bed, perhaps, even? Azazel was never one to have a hard time getting to sleep, most of the time. He was a very good sleeper. Not so much lately, with what was rattling around in his head, “Well, it is your couch.” He noted, in amusement, “You can sleep on it if you want.”

Rubbing his left hand against his neck, he let Andrea go on, with a few nods of his head as he stayed quiet. Though he was not much of a coffee drinker, he had drunk it from time to time. Most people were a lot more social when they drank coffee. Or, at the very least, liked to drink coffee socially. Just like, most bars were full of people who only drank socially. He had to guess. “I am a sleepy person, so a good night's rest is an important part of my day.” Though he had no intention of letting her, let alone anyone else, know what was going on with him. It was a torment, but Azazel could imagine worse if he allowed himself to be unburdened by that torment.

Or maybe that was just his imagination. Glancing around, scanning over the crowds, he swallowed thickly, not sure who might be watching, with a crowd like this. Anyone, anywhere, here, could be. He had to play this off naturally, taking in a breath, he turned his head back toward Andrea, “Oh! Really? I passed by there, the store itself, the other day. Looks like it's having trouble getting off the ground.” But of course, the owners weren't, in his opinion, the most reliable. So he was surprised it hadn't burned to the ground or been condemned yet. But the 'child labor' was a nice touch. He knew it wasn't actually what was going on, but he was being a bit of a pessimist, “Nothing, sadly. Which I usually do. I guess there's been a bit of a slump?”

It was always nice to see a familiar face, especially when it is a friend of hers. She began to think of extending her break to hang out with him, she needed it after how long the day had been for the blonde. "I mean it is a pretty comfy couch, I have fallen asleep on it quite a few times myself." She chuckled. He looked like he needed the nap that she had disturbed, but she wasn't going to pry unless he wanted to talk about it.

"There is never a bad time for coffee, unless when you are trying to get a good nights rest." She took hold of his hand and helped him to his feet before letting him fix up his bag pack. "It's been pretty tiring if I'm being honest with you. I haven't been to many booths been working at the record store booth most of the day. Needed to take a break from it all. What about you? Find anything good?"

♡ follow for more soft john dies aesthetic ♡

Narcissistic Cannibal - EarlyRise (Cover of a Korn song)