"Right. You sure you don't just need a good cry?" Bobby had to tease him a little, getting his satisfaction from being right about all this. It was usually how he got the feeling of appreciation, he certainly wasn't about to get it from the idjit hunters he worked with.
"I wonder what it's like. Couple hundred years of numbness and now you're back at it. Almost feelin' like you got a soul." Only almost. Obviously there wasn't actually a soul here. "You sure you ain't wonderin' how much you could feel if you let yourself?"
"I'd never!" He wasn't going to admit to crying, that would be as dumb as Sam and Gunn having an important conversation about him with the door wide open. Some people knew how to keep their cards to their chest. Some people were smarter than the average idiot - like him. And smart people didn't cry or admit to weakness. "There's no real feeling there. It's an illusion. I don't have a soul and -- and even if I did, it's not like I was the most feeling in life."
He was a bitter, numb drunken with no real interest in anyone or anything. He was never exactly precious over his soul or his 'heart'. "I think if I 'embraced my humanity' then I'd just end up craving scotch and sex. And I already crave those so what's the big difference."
"I don't know, I ain't ever been anything but human. But I can tell you that people who don't feel a lot don't become bitter drunks who sell their souls. That's the kinda stuff someone's driven to." And if it really had been over an extra few inches of penis, Bobby had some additional theories about that.
"Anyway. I hear there's a party down in hell. Some people really celebratin' that you're missin'. And so far they ain't exactly knocking in our doors lookin' for you either. Guess you ain't that popular, huh? Ungrateful demons?"
"Respectfully disagree." Was all Aleister offered as he tried to defend himself from Bobby's annoyingly perceptive observations. He didn't want to give the arsehole what he wanted so he kept a smile on his face, despite the unstoppable irritation and disappointment he had in his gut. Stupid, selfish, visionless demons. As if this was going to work. Like a Knight of Hell knew what hell needed. "Let them party. Have their turn. It'll turn into chaos so fast, they'll be eating each other, never mind anyone else."
It was like leaving a bunch of toddlers alone in a room full of candy. Seemed fun at first but structure and rules, all people craved them - whether they knew it or not. "Trust me, they'll be knocking down the doors any day now. They just don't know because the lines are jammed."
"Yeah, cause when the King of Hell is missin' it's such a goshdarn mystery who might have nabbed him." Bobby snorted and walked over, finally sitting down in a chair across from Aleister. "I don't disagree with you. I reckon no place can run on chaos. Not even hell. But they don't realise that yet, so you got no appreciation. Who knows, maybe the'll be yearnin' for your reign soon."
Evidently not yet. Hatred of Aleister seemed to run deep. "But until then, you're cosied up here and you're bored. Maybe I can help. You'd be grateful for any thrill, I reckon. Any hit."
"So I'm bored, you're bored and you think I'll just take any little thrill to kill the boredom and I'll be happy?" Aleister pretended to ponder that idea before exhaling a tired and annoyed sigh. "Doesn't sound much different to my last relationship."
And that was his wife, who's name he had scorched happily from his mind. Stupid, dumb bitch.
"Unless you're offering me a whiskey and some time out of those stupid contraption, we don't have much of a deal here." He wanted to move, to stretch, to drink away some of these ugly feelings. He had to numb it all away - right? He was the king, whether Bobby doubted it or not.
"I could give you that, darlin'." Bobby wasn't sure why he stuck with calling him that. Probably just because he didn't want to feel like he was on the losing side of that flirty thing that Aleister seemed to like doing so much. "Give you that and a lot more you ain't even know how to ask for. But you know how a deal goes."
Better than anyone, Bobby would argue. "There's gotta be somethin' in it for me. And none of that nonsense the boys asked for. I got better stuff to learn from the King of Hell."
Damn. The way he said darling, it went right through him right now. And not just in a fun, flirty way either. It was like an electric bolt through his dick. Oh, it would be nice. To be darling to someone who wasn't just teasing. To be wanted. Actually wanted, not just for profit or order or a deal. It was a silly fantasy and he had thousands of years to help him debunk that reality. Even so, it niggled in his brain.
"What do you want?" Aleister asked simply, not fun or teasing, he was just tired and that annoying depression was setting in. He hated it as a human and he hated it even more as a demon. That was the whole point of being a demon - howling at the moon and not giving a fuck.
"I'm interested in learnin'." Bobby got a hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "That's an alphabet, right?"
The letters drawn on it were from some demonic language, something ancient and evil, Bobby was sure of that much. And he had figured out some things about the language system, such as that it was definitely working similarly to an alphabet, not characters or symbols.
So he had transferred all the individual letters on that piece of paper, not wanting to hand over what he was actually working on translating. Seemed like a lateral move, Aleister already knew more than he should.
"Gimme those letters and I'm lettin' you walk around the place for a few hours. Shackled, of course. But you can have shower time, any book I'm lettin' ya read and they've got decent scotch."
Aleister looked at the piece of paper, pulled it close to inspect the symbols and then pulled a face. Well, it was still a better deal than the boys had offered him. "It's almost an alphabet, you missed two key letters and this one doesn't belong."
He tapped the incorrect symbol and then traced the missing symbols with his finger. He couldn't write them. Yet.
"First, let's get your alphabet correct. Then we can talk about giving you the letters." He leaned back and looked at Bobby expectantly. "Now run along and get me a pen, pet. I'll show you how it goes."
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"I wonder what it's like. Couple hundred years of numbness and now you're back at it. Almost feelin' like you got a soul." Only almost. Obviously there wasn't actually a soul here. "You sure you ain't wonderin' how much you could feel if you let yourself?"
no subject
He was a bitter, numb drunken with no real interest in anyone or anything. He was never exactly precious over his soul or his 'heart'. "I think if I 'embraced my humanity' then I'd just end up craving scotch and sex. And I already crave those so what's the big difference."
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"Anyway. I hear there's a party down in hell. Some people really celebratin' that you're missin'. And so far they ain't exactly knocking in our doors lookin' for you either. Guess you ain't that popular, huh? Ungrateful demons?"
no subject
It was like leaving a bunch of toddlers alone in a room full of candy. Seemed fun at first but structure and rules, all people craved them - whether they knew it or not. "Trust me, they'll be knocking down the doors any day now. They just don't know because the lines are jammed."
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Evidently not yet. Hatred of Aleister seemed to run deep. "But until then, you're cosied up here and you're bored. Maybe I can help. You'd be grateful for any thrill, I reckon. Any hit."
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And that was his wife, who's name he had scorched happily from his mind. Stupid, dumb bitch.
"Unless you're offering me a whiskey and some time out of those stupid contraption, we don't have much of a deal here." He wanted to move, to stretch, to drink away some of these ugly feelings. He had to numb it all away - right? He was the king, whether Bobby doubted it or not.
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Better than anyone, Bobby would argue. "There's gotta be somethin' in it for me. And none of that nonsense the boys asked for. I got better stuff to learn from the King of Hell."
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"What do you want?" Aleister asked simply, not fun or teasing, he was just tired and that annoying depression was setting in. He hated it as a human and he hated it even more as a demon. That was the whole point of being a demon - howling at the moon and not giving a fuck.
no subject
The letters drawn on it were from some demonic language, something ancient and evil, Bobby was sure of that much. And he had figured out some things about the language system, such as that it was definitely working similarly to an alphabet, not characters or symbols.
So he had transferred all the individual letters on that piece of paper, not wanting to hand over what he was actually working on translating. Seemed like a lateral move, Aleister already knew more than he should.
"Gimme those letters and I'm lettin' you walk around the place for a few hours. Shackled, of course. But you can have shower time, any book I'm lettin' ya read and they've got decent scotch."
no subject
He tapped the incorrect symbol and then traced the missing symbols with his finger. He couldn't write them. Yet.
"First, let's get your alphabet correct. Then we can talk about giving you the letters." He leaned back and looked at Bobby expectantly. "Now run along and get me a pen, pet. I'll show you how it goes."