Through the Halls of the Dorms, Friday Night

[way-black.livejournal.com]

Here a week, and already Blackheart was getting nasty handwavey letters on parchment from his Father. It was bad enough that the old man felt the need to check up on him, did he honestly have to do so on parchment? How absolutely, maddeningly... old fashioned. Paper. Honestly. Was it so difficult to use paper? He was the lord of Hell, for Hell's sake, one would think it wouldn't be difficult to get his hands on the stuff. Send a demon up to get some. So bloody difficult. Really.

Blackheart had even been good enough to give his father the benefit of the doubt and read through it. Typical parental garbage. 'How is school?' 'Learn anything new?' 'You better not have killed anyone, or you'll be in so much trouble, mister.'

Stupid old man.

Blackheart wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize his time here in Fandom, if it meant that he didn't have to actually spend time around his Father.

That's why he was stalking angrily down the hallways on his way out of the building, so that he wasn't lighting a fire in his dorm room. Hellfire wasn't really a good thing to be using indoors.

(For one person in particular, but hey, I'm not gonna stop you from using the hallways. Boggle at the angry, pasty, kind of smelly goth kid if you want to!)

Comments

[way-black.livejournal.com]

...

...

...

"Popcorn?"

A really, really sheltered life.

[notawitch.livejournal.com]

Will blinked a couple times before giving Blackheart a piercing look.

"Where did you say you were from again?"

[way-black.livejournal.com]

"Hell," he said simply. And then he had a notion that this wouldn't be the best note to continue this conversation on. "Michigan."

[notawitch.livejournal.com]

"Uh-huh."

She wasn't buying the Michigan thing for a minute, but he didn't seem to be plotting anything at the moment. She decided to keep an eye on him.

"And how were you going to burn this letter?"

[way-black.livejournal.com]

....

"Matches?"

Hellfire, matches, same thing.

[notawitch.livejournal.com]

Will leaned back against the school wall.

"We'd better get started. I heard that it's going to get cold later tonight."

[way-black.livejournal.com]

Well, Blackheart was good and screwed now, wasn't he? He didn't have a single match on him, really.

There was a ball of parchment in his hand. There was a very suspicious hero sort of girl standing nearby. And here he was without a freaking pack of matches.

And he had to do this without starting a fight and getting sent back to Hell, which seemed less and less appealing the more he thought about it.

...

"I seem to have forgotten the matches."

This was so stupid.

[notawitch.livejournal.com]

Will gave Blackheart a sympathetic expression. "Aww, that's too bad," she said.

Suspicious? Who, her?

[way-black.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. A real sin."

So he was a little annoyed. He glowered down at the parchment and tore it in two. And he felt marginally better.

He'd like to do the same with Will, but once again, the prospect of being sent back to his father danced into his mind. He didn't like it much.

"Maybe I'll just ... recycle it or something, instead."

Did they even recycle parchment?