Cohost writing prompt: @Making-up-Demons — Demon who only listens to cool, edgy bands. Bands that really understand the darkness within. Not that you would get it
One of the stooped and stygian figues of monastic brooding from Solipsism has been trying to chat up Valquazzit at a party via a monologue about dark, edgy bands and their essential resonance with infernal truth for the past forty minutes.
"I once did a cross-training thing with Lakes of Fire!" Val chirps when she can get a word in edgeways. "They let me pick the PA music!" She wraps her lips around the straw in her pink cocktail and sips. "I played Aqua," she adds, straight-face.
"...Aqua?" the other demon says blankly. "The, uh — the Barbie song band?"
"Oh, please." Valquazzit narrows her eyes. "Barbie Girl. That's like only knowing Chumbawamba for Tubthumping or Abba for being skin puppets for the Bone-Eating Century Worm. I played them Happy Boys And Girls. On repeat. For a week."
The dark, robed figure shuffles a step back in abject horror.
"Why's Val playing with her food again?" Vozdrammar says, juggling a gamepad and a glass of wine, and Pinviax, legs draped across her lap, snorts without looking away from the TV.
"Because she went home with Jurhazo last week," she says.
Vozdrammar makes a noise in her throat, rolls her eyes, and drains her glass. "Oh, we're doing that again," she says sourly. "Lemme guess, Zo walked funny and smiled for three days, then Val said something about going steady framed as a joke, Zo panicked and yelled baka! It's not like I like you or anything! so Val moped off to the British Government Diplomatic Liason guys' ornithology club bar crawl and orgy, sulked in a corner with a lemonade watching someone get fingered then went home, and Zo's being a sulky terror because she imagined her getting drunkenly double fisted right on the bar by hot birdwatchers—"
"Is there anyone hot in British Liason?"
"No, in case the Brits try to stick 'em in the British Museum." Vozdrammar flails over the arm of the sofa trying to grab a half-full wine bottle. "So now we gotta watch Val do that for weeks whenever she thinks Zo's watching until Zo snaps and drags her into the bathroom and everyone has to queue to pee for an hour and we have to go round the whole thing again because they're both fucking idiots. Anyway, have you picked what map we're doing next?"
Pinviax coughs, controller clutched to her chest. "Hi, Jurhazo!" she says, and Vozdrammar looks up.
"Hi, Zo!" she says, wincing.
"I'm going home," Jurhazo says, and storms out.
"Fudge," Vozdrammar says, and makes another grab for the wine before someone slaps hands down framing her shoulders and looms over the back of the couch.
"What did you do to Zo?" Valquazzit demands.
"Fudge," Vozdrammar says darkly, and swigs straight from the bottle.