maskormenace

Entry tags:

TEXT

[ Well, Kyle's been having a time of it back home. He's come back a little wiser, a lot stronger, and with giant ears. And fangs. And unwieldy black claws. They're actually making texting kind of hard, but it's better than video or audio right now. He's not letting this freak show go on display in front of the entire network. But he does need help from them, sssoooo... ]

got a question for everyone
or maybe the ladies
whoever is ok!
Im kinda in need of a really good nail salon
like hardcore veteran manicurist

Id really appreciate any recs thx

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ping! goes the elevator and Jack steps inside, waiting for Kyle to follow before giving the kid a proper once over with a slow, sweeping gaze. It's only the one dragged out look though, and then he's straight back to staring morosely ahead again as they're taken up.]

Puberty finally hit?

[ His knee-jerk reaction is to shout no! He's eighteen, puberty hit a long time ago! But, well, it's more accurate than Jack realizes. ]

In a manner of speaking... Yeah.

[ His very genetics were manipulated by his father's powers. He awakened a part of Kyle he never knew existed, like a dormant virus waiting to multiply and infect. ]

Huh. Haven't seen that look since the early days. [Back when demons and angels weren't entirely unusual for biblical folk like Jack. It's been a long time since he last saw a demon lurking around, but none of those sort tend to even try messing with him.

With the elevator open, he leads them off down the hall, pausing in front of a door and opening it without a key, walking in first and expecting Kyle to follow. Apparently he doesn't care too much about security or manners.]

The early days of what...? Who ever sees something like this?!

[ As irritated as he is, Kyle follows him in. He can't say security is an issue for him either, since anyone who tried to jump or capture him would be burnt to Hell and back. Literally, at this point. ]

I didn't even know Hell actually existed until... I—Well until I found out.

[ That sounds better than "until I was sexually abused, bound, and skeezed on by my own demonic father." ]

[It's okay, Kyle, Jack gets what it's like to have weird demonic dads considering his was probably literally Satan.]

Start of humanity as you know it. [He explains, lumbering over to a beaten looking, oversized tool box and dragging it nearer to the bed, pointing towards the bed as he does so. It's a fine perching point.] Sit.

Edited 2017-03-13 05:26 (UTC)

[ At first Kyle doesn't even listen to the comment. It sounds like something he would say to deflect or joke about just to confuse you. But Jack also has no reason to lie. He has no stake in anything but to be left alone, so why start now? ]

...... You're serious. [ That is a bold ass statement to make. Watching Jack with newfound consideration, he does as he's told and sits on the edge of the man's bed. ]

Obviously. [Dead pan. Kyle's right about having no need to lie, Jack is capable of talking all the shit, but that's entirely unnecessary when discussing his experience with angels and demons and everything in between.

Once the kid is sat down, he drags over a chair to sit close, knee to knee as he reaches for a clawed hand and leans down to check out those things.] You sure you want rid of these?

[ He gives him a hand without question, not concerned by what he would or could do to him. ]

Why would I want to keep them? I can barely function without cutting myself. I can't text. It sucks.

[Kyle gets a brief look from under Jack's brows that lasts only a second before his attention's back on the claws. Kids these days and their texting.]

I'll try some wire cutters, if those don't work I got bolt cutters. [Plus his grinder and various other tools, but they're just nails, surely?!

And so he rattles around in his toolbox for some cutters, pretty heavy duty ones but still handheld.]

[ You text almost solely, Jack. Don't you even judge!!! ]

Okay... [ Does his voice sound a little nervous? That's because he is. Kyle is trying his darnedest not to fidget, but the idea of wire cutters anywhere near his hands sound like a recipe for disaster. ] You... know what you're doing, right?

[JUDGING SO MUCH! But okay, fair, texting is way better than any other form of modern communication.]

Nope. No idea.

[He's lying, of course, this is a man who knows how to handle tools. Perhaps it's a reassurance that he's taking his time with this though, holding a finger closer to his eyeline as he tries to judge whether there's any blood vessels or kwik closer to the finger tip. Seems fine though as he finally holds a finger firm and, with some force, snips half of the black claw off.

... He's just waiting to see if there's any screaming following.]

[ There's almost no pain. It's only the hard pressure of the break that makes him pull in a quick breath. But then it's off, or some of it anyway. ]

Okay, that's not so bad.

[ Watching with care, though, he swipes a tongue over his bottom lip to catch what's left of some dried blood. He can't go a few sentences yet without biting himself. ]

Yup. Just cutting a nail. You want them short?

[If Kyle wants them long and pretty, then Jack ain't gonna judge, but short does seem way more practical for that fancy texting thing that kids love doing.

Snip goes another one, he'll come back and tidy them up later, just getting the main length off them for now and keeping himself distracted and busy and not focused on the tiniest scent of blood.]

Yes, please.

[ Kyle sits still through it, and unsurprisingly Jack doesn't try for any small talk. He's focused on what he's doing. Once the man's done with the preliminary cuts, he pulls them back to take a look at them. Already they look so much better. ]

[He clips each nail slowly, methodical in his work just as he is in just about everything else in life. This is not a man who rushes. Why bother when life is eternal and you're not running out of time?

Once they're all trimmed, he goes back to the first, getting a better, more even cut on all of them as short to the tip as he can go.]

Got a tail? Any wings? [Doopdoop, totally normal conversation for a manicurist.]

Yeah, I've got wings. [ But they have to be consciously summoned, which of course he never does. ] They're pretty basic demony leather wings of stereotypical doom.

Show them. [More of a request than a demand, but with Jack that might not be easy to tell.

With clipping done, he leans off to one side again to dump those clippers away and root around for something that'll help with getting rid of some of the sharpness of the cut. Fine sand paper will do the trick, he figures. It's practically the same shit as a nail file anyway.]

No. [ He's actually shocked Jack would make that kind of a request—Or, well, any request. But doubly so for that of all things. Jack's the one who is supposed to not give two shits about his problems or what he is. ] It's already bad enough I look like a demon. I don't need to add more.

[Bitch please, he don't care about Kyle's problems, he just wants to see old school demon stuff. It's been a while, maybe he's feeling a bit nostalgic or just altogether curious.

He doesn't say a word in reply, but there's a brief halting in his manicuring, straightening up just slightly in his seat to roll his shoulders as huge ass black wings unfurl from his back with a lazy ruffle of feathers, and then he's straight back to leaning in to carry on with that filing. Those wings don't seem all that comfortable or practical for sitting down, the tips folding awkwardly against the floor, although none of it seems to bother Jack too much.]

[ Fine, Jack! FINE! Since Jack is sharing a part of himself (and graciously doing his nails like a friend GASP!), Kyle has no right to remain stubborn. He concentrates on the fire inside him and pushes it outward through his back.

Bone by long, black bone, his own wings unfurl and take up all the space around him, just as Jack's have. Then his white eyes watch the man's face closely, looking for any sign of scorn or contempt. ]

Edited 2017-03-15 05:30 (UTC)

[Jack's gaze lifts long enough to watch the growth, an eyebrow lifted in curiosity but never anything more. Once they're fully unfurled, the sight of those bat wings alongside the horns, fangs and glowing eyes gets a short,] Huh. [But then Jack's straight back to filing.]

Do they fly?

Yeah. But I've only flown with them twice. [ Kyle grows quiet for a bit before the question inevitably tumble out of him. ] So. Your wings... Does that mean you're... a fallen angel?

[ Isn't that what black angel wings means? ]

[But flying is great, Kyle. How can you not take advantage of it? Even Jack likes flying and he hates everything.]

Maybe. Not exactly. Porter gave me these. [Sort of. I mean he may have had them once before, long ago, once upon a time, but remembering thousands of years of memories is haaaaaaard.]

Oh. My... father gave me mine. [ Out of nowhere, though, Kyle cracks a smile and laughs. ] That was the worst birthday present I've gotten so far.

Huh. Not the best. [He agrees, although he can't say he'd be totally pissed with bat wings and horns. Better than eating people.] I don't remember my father. Not much anyway.

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;