- Joined
- Dec 15, 2012
- Messages
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Sitting at his own personal table overlooking The Devil's Strip through a bent glass wall, leaning over a basket of greasy potato strings and a modest recyclable paper cup of soda, Lucifer snapped his fingers over the side of the table to rid them of the clinging salt that fizzled to the floor; licking his lips to decide which strip to delicately seize next. A large white napkin set folded upon the table next to him, discarded, traded for the black napkin that lay draped over his black lap. Entirely suited in black silk, a business suit setting himself apart from his usual dealings, he still sported the dashing red sash stuffed into his breast pocket. His thick white curls were tossed over the side of his head, exposing his right ear that kept open to all that passed by the open hall to this fairly empty community box. His black polished dress shoe bobbed over the other, legs crossed under the table, as he kept one shoulder open to whomever joined him. For he was expecting company soon.
He'd spent the day putting up notices for a piloting position, good pay, hoping to catch any swoop rider or independent mercenary who wouldn't outright recognize his face. Regardless if they did, he wouldn't be too picky who he hired. At the end of the day, he'd move on and find himself another watering hole where he might find someone willing to accept his generous credits for the job.
Lucifer partook of a thin potato slice, pinching it between two fingers, and dipped it into the little cup of ketchup before taking a delicate bite. A swoop crashed below while the others zoomed by, all but failing to garner Lucifer's distant observation.
He'd spent the day putting up notices for a piloting position, good pay, hoping to catch any swoop rider or independent mercenary who wouldn't outright recognize his face. Regardless if they did, he wouldn't be too picky who he hired. At the end of the day, he'd move on and find himself another watering hole where he might find someone willing to accept his generous credits for the job.
Lucifer partook of a thin potato slice, pinching it between two fingers, and dipped it into the little cup of ketchup before taking a delicate bite. A swoop crashed below while the others zoomed by, all but failing to garner Lucifer's distant observation.