Sample

[lordofsin]

  Soft music was playing overhead, and the rustle of expensive cloth, the clink of glasses, and the susurrus of inane conversation were all things Belial was familiar with. A small smile curled his lips. He loved these so-called high-class bars, where the patrons liked to believe that they were a cut above the common people in their common bars. They liked to believe that they had classy sins of their own, too. As if. Everything ultimately came down to the Seven, and sin was sin, wherever you found it. The sheer pride and lust and greed in the air was almost tangible. He licked his lips slowly, letting his eyes rest on the décolletage of a woman staring blatantly at him, or perhaps at the leather dog collar just barely visible beneath the collar of his white dress shirt. She flushed, turning back to her companions, but sneaking glances at him. Go on. Skim a little off those accounts. You know you want to, and nobody will ever notice. 

  He toyed with the paper umbrella that probably accounted for a quarter of the ridiculous price of his drink - not that he'd needed to pay, he never did - and leaned back in his seat, discreetly watching the people around him and pretending not to notice the eyes, both male and female, that were fixed on him. Most demons tried to be subtle*; he, however, had found that the attention often made his work easier.

  It was almost boring these days, though, with each person thinking that their entanglement, their temptation, was the first and most confusing of its sort, when the number of times he'd seen such situations could fill books. Where was the variety? The challenge?

  The door opened, and he turned to assess the newcomer.

* - Whether or not they actually succeeded is another matter, of course.

Comments

[lordofsin]

"A malicious spirit?" Come now, that was just insulting. "Perhaps you need to brush up on your folklore. My namesake is far more than that."

Belial took another sip of the drink. "And what of your name? It's not one I've heard before, and I've travelled quite a bit."

[linny75.livejournal.com]

Atlan chuckled. "Forgive me if I've offended by not showing sufficient respect for a creature form mythology. But it is a fact that that kind of stories tends to blow things up a lot."

He emptied his drink and put the glass down. "My mother liked the name. It was attacahed to a gread warrior in a story she liked to read."

That explanation was even true, kind of!

[lordofsin]

"Indeed. The cloven horns were overkill, in my opinion. Or the sheer number of children he supposedly had."

Belial's foot knocked Atlan's slightly, almost accidentally, as he leant forward to place his own emptied glass next to the other man's. "A great warrior? From which culture?"

[linny75.livejournal.com]

Atlan ignored the touch below the table. He would not retreat by pulling away, but he would most certainly not react in any way that could be misunderstood... otherwise.

You're getting yourself into trouble that voice in his head remarket.

I am not. He returned silently. To Belial he said: "Not a culture, I think, a story. Something she was told as a child. She didn't even get the name right, though, as I found out later."

[lordofsin]

That earned a laugh. "So what was his actual name? And do you know the story? I'm interested in hearing it."

"Two more of the same, please," he added to the bartender. No retreat, no reaction. Hmm. Perhaps his female form would have elicited some form of reaction, but he could hardly change now.

[linny75.livejournal.com]

"I'd rather not tell," Atlan said, grinning. "I'm quite sure you know all about being expected to live up to a name. And I'll pay for those." He indicated the drinks.

Then he leaned back and let his gaze wander around the bar, taking in the people and, of course, in particular the women. "Do you come here often?" he asked.

[lordofsin]

Belial shrugged fluidly. "To this bar in particular? A couple of times. I've been to many places like it, though."

He scrutinised the man. "I haven't seen you around here before." Granted, a couple of weeks in one place was hardly long enough to know everyone there, but he'd have noticed this man if they'd passed on the street, unless he'd dyed his hair.