forum Well this is new... (One on One)

Started September 07, 2018 by @RedTheLoveless

tune

Truth stared the other down for a few moments in silence. “Fine. But wherever it is, they’d better serve steak.” He shook his hair out with an exasperated sigh. “I’m Truth, if you’d like to know.”

Icarus blinked in surprise, his jaw hanging open slightly. "I, uh, sure. Yeah. Definitely steak. Nice to uh… meet you Truth." Icarus was rooted to his spot. He's gonna need something more than just caffeine to make it to tonight.

Truth narrowed his eyes, his prickliness bothering the softer, human part of himself.
“I suppo- I mean… it’s good to meet you, too, Icarus.”
You really must work on that! Said an annoying voice in his ear.
“What time tonight? Where are we going to meet?”

"Right yeah um… would 6:00 PM work? There's this local place called The Habit. They make great burgers and steak." He offered, glad he wasn't the only one stumbling in this situation. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

Truth rolled his shoulders back. “Sure, it’s the one just up the street, right? Yeah, six would work, too…” He stared awkwardly at Icarus. “So… do you want my number or… are we just going to bank on both of us being there on time…?”

"Oh um yeah, yeah. That's the place… I guess I can take your number. Um… would you like mine as well?" Icarus nodded. He fumbled in his pocket to bring out his phone; he couldn't remember his phone number for the life of him. How do mortals ever remember these?

Truth shrugged. “Why not. What is it?” He kept his hands in his pockets. “Actually, if you’re ready for mine… it’s 246-365-7890,” He recited off, after a moment of thinking.
Mortals have it so easy. Remembering ten numbers is a synch.

Hurriedly, Icarus input the sequence of numbers into his cell phone and saving it under the contact name Truth the Demon. "Ah alright. Got it. Uh mine is…" he scrolled through his phone to find his number. "Right. My number is 246 - 262 - 9201." He listed slowly, making sure he was reading the number correctly.

“Alright,” Truth growled gently. “See you at six.” He turned heel and continued to walk, shifting his hands in his pants, to his sweater pockets.

(Okay!)

Truth curled up his wings as he approached The Habit. His feet gently touched the ground and he ran for a couple feet, gravity pushing him forward and all. He got to the double doors of the restaurant and walked in. Telling by the inside, this place’s food was expensive; Thank god I’m not paying. He smirked a grim smirk and looked around for Icarus.

Icarus ran around the corner, panting. He didn't want to be late for this. He slowed to a fast walk as he caught his breath and fixed his hair with this hands as he neared The Habit. He had dressed for this evening, wearing a white suit, black shoes, and a red handkerchief. He waved as soon as he spotted Truth when he walked into the restaurant.

Truth raised a hand, the cloth of his black dress shirt coming up past his belt. Cursing, he lowered his hands and shoved the too-short shirt into his belt and black dress pants.
Once Truth sorted out his shirt, not ripping it off and burning it in the fireplace embedded on the wall near a booth, he slunk over to Icarus.
“Evening,” He grunted as he paused in front of Icarus.

Amusement twinkled in Icarus's eyes at Truth's too-short shirt antics. "Good evening," he replied, pulling at his cuffs. A waiter came up, asking for a name and group size.
"Uh… two under Wilson." He replied and the waiter led the two over to a two-seater table next to a window. There seemed to be a lit candle on the table for some reason.

Truth fit comfortably into the light brown leathered seat, the candle on the middle of the table throwing shadows onto his already heavily shadowed and handsome face.
He lifted up the menu and looked through it, spotting New York Strip- 14 oz, $39.
He glanced at the drinks section, and with a rush of delight, noticed they were all alcoholic.
You’re being rude to your… date… Sneered the voice in his head.

Icarus cleared his throat as he pulled at his collar, which seemed a bit tight around his neck. He let out a soft sigh as he settled into his chair and ordered coke and rum as a drink before turning to look at Truth.
"So… Truth… what exactly are you, if I may ask," he questioned as he fiddled with the silverware and napkin.

Truth ordered a whole bottle of bourbon and set the menu down. He gazed at Icarus across the table after the latter asked his question, then entwined his fingers.
“A Dark Demon, of course.” He cleared his throat and moved around on the seat. “Is that why you invited me here, tonight? To ask me of my magical heritage?” His voice was lofty, yes, but calm and somewhat teasing, much different than the Demon Icarus met that morning.

Icarus smiled as he tilted his head slightly. He noticed that he was almost a different person now, but it was probably because of some cool off time. Hopefully.
"Well that… and to make conversation. I have offered to make up for ruining your meal, so… I have to do it right, right?" He smiled kindly.

Truth stroked at a long piece of his black hair, which was crooning over his pale skin. “Sure, sure, of course. However, I expected someone of… your type to have, per say, eliminate me, or whatever term you Fallen Angels use.” He waved a hand in thanks as their waiter brought back their drinks. Truth then promptly poured a small glass with ice full of the thick, amber colored drink and sipped it curiously, while scrutinizing Icarus.

Icarus let out a sigh as he let his head fall a bit. "I'm not gonna lie, but that was my first objective." He looked up at Truth and elaborated, "My original plan was to bring you here to kill you." He was cut off as the waiter brought them their drinks and left again. He continued.
"However, the more I searched for you, the more I questioned myself. You're not the reason why I was kicked out of heaven, and yet I still hold this festering anger…" He took a deep breath to calm himself, not realize his hands had turned into fists until he unclenched them.
"No matter how many of your kind I hunt, I'm never going to be allowed back home. That's when I realized, it's not your kind that irk me: it was my failure–my being beaten by one of you. She's the only one who should warrant my anger…" Icarus snapped out of his near daze-like state to look directly into Truth's eyes.

Truth gazed steadily into the other’s eyes. “May I ask who was she? And possibly, what your plan was to kill me?” He took a sip of the drink, his eyes gleaming. “It wasn’t to possibly poison my drink when I stepped away to use the restroom; to… blatantly shoot me, stab me or… hmmm I think shooting my wing joint before I could even meet you would’ve been a good one.” He grinned as though plotting his own death was indeed laughable.

"You're almost spot on, actually. All of those were planned for, but never prepared." Icarus admitted, slightly embarrassed with pink cheeks. "But, you're not my enemy I suppose." He couldn't manage to look at Truth anymore, wearing a shameful smile.
"She said her name was Mania." He answered. "She left her mark on my wards before leaving me to suffer the consequences."

Truth glanced back at the bourbon bottle. “Mark on your wards, huh? Left you for another man? Cheated? Demonesses are harsh, I’d never trust one. And not because they’re women because they’re actual Demons. Much more bloodthirsty and lusty…” He whistled and leaned back against the booth. “Anyway, enough about the tough times, what do you wanna know about me?”

Icarus let himself be pulled back into the present and out of his memories. He didn't need the images of those innocent, burnt and bloody bodies. Especially not here. He attempted a smile.
"I guess I should be asking if you're single." Icarus tried to lighten the mood with a light chuckle.

Truth raised an eyebrow. “You have better attentions than I thought, looking at you. Yes, I am single.” He chuckled gently too and took a swig of his drink.
“Why, you interested in me? A Dark Demon? One of the most fierce and intolerable of Demon breeds?”

"Just making conversation," Icarus commented, smirking slightly as he leaned back in his chair, taking a deep drink of his coke and rum. "Informational conversation," Icarus winked as he swirled his drink out of habit.
"Any questions you wish to ask me, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome Demon?"

Truth yawned, showing his sharp, white teeth. “Informational, huh?” He asked heavily, taking a swig of bourbon. “No, not necessarily… haven’t I already asked you enough? You’re a Fallen Angel, hence why you’re in the Mortal realm… hm… Nope, no questions for Mr. Mysterious, Hot, Fallen Angel.”