upforanything

This wasn’t what he had expected to do with his week but there was no arguing against it. After so long Matthieu finds himself in Los Angeles once more but this one wasn’t full of confusing encounters with the devil and a headhunt quarry that nearly went wrong completely. No, Shin’s jurisdiction of the Californian Coast had managed to beat out the others in gaining hold of the conference for the US branch of the Order. Really it was a bunch of reapers prattling on about the going ons of the past year when it came to adjustments to the blacklist and where increases in death had occurred. Only those with enough experience were brought in to support the head reaper of their assigned jurisdiction. That meant he’s had to deal with Yor complaining about and debating with several different heads.

Honestly Matthieu could’ve been more than thrilled to stay back home and make sure things didn’t go belly up in everyone’s absence. That would’ve been the easier option. Especially when most of the events going on were parties that he much rather hole up in his hotel room if Yor didn’t drag him by the ear to or boring discussions that nearly put him to sleep. This isn’t what he had signed up for originally when becoming a reaper. That seems to change once you hit a certain age in the second life though.

He’s stuck in a meeting on the second day when he finds his mind wandering. Thoughts going off to a charming man and his domain high above a club packed with bodies and booze. The flash of heated hellfire in his eyes when Matthieu had wandered back in, earning a cursory rub to his stomach as if soothing wounds that haven’t ached in awhile. That and the hidden depths underneath the show of charm and grandeur. Conversations going on into the early hours of the morning, answering questions and gentle ribbing. Then the supposed breaking him down. A faint flush hitting his cheeks as he rests his mouth into his hand. Gods he hadn’t felt comfortable at first with it but the way that he had been made to move...

He nearly misses the question directed to him because of it. Sighing, it was going to be a long day. Joy.

Eventually he can slip out and loosens his tie with a gentle tug. However there’s a decent number of reapers heading off towards the main lobby that has him more than curious. What in the world was going that was getting them in such a fuss? Last he checked no one was that excited for a presentation...ever and especially not one concerning their morbid line of work.

He doesn’t have anything further for the day so he gives in to his curiosity and heads along to see what was the commotion. There was quite a crowd; mixed reactions with enraptured, frustrated and inquisitive chief amongst them. Matthieu is able to worm his way enough through the throng of bodies that he can catch a glimpse of the spectacle. He didn’t...shit.

Lucifer was here.

Shit this isn’t...shitshitshit. Double backing through the crowd, Matthieu makes his way off towards the deeper parts of the conference. The man was getting what he wanted aka attention and whatever else, probably a kick of humor at how so many of the Order reacted and the chaos it brought to the usually well run show. Last thing he wanted was to be another in that crowd and then possibly seen by any of the Heads. Let alone the possibility of being thrown in with the lot that Lucifer has apparently churned through in Shin’s jurisdiction.

He wishes he could be more confident about what he did. He didn’t really regret it. Yet he’s since learned of the devil’s reputation and he’s just another name on the list. Gods he’s old enough to have known better dammit...

Pushing into the dark interior, the hunter pulls his cloak in tighter around his shoulders after a quick assessment of the crowded space. There's endless bounds of laughter and clattering glass as the packed club hosts many jovial guardians as much as the denizens of the city within a dim yet comfortable confine. Passing through, a couple of patrons give the newcomer a curious turn of their heads before returning back to their drinks and conversations. None stand in the man’s way, parting away to give him a berth of respect at the length of the cloak that hangs from his shoulders despite its tattered state.

That and the disconcerting helmet that is worn. Its exterior built of husks from creatures that had sunk their claws into the moon. The chitin marked with scars from whatever its owner had been before having been laid claim as prey.

He sets himself in the back, far in the shadows of a booth that gives ample view of the space. All to better watch the comings and goings of anyone and everyone. A server comes to take care of any of his needs but they get a dismissive wave of a hand before he settles back with arms crossed. They show a fault in their charismatic display for a brief second until simply disappearing back off into the crowds.

There’s too much focus on the hunt. Every degree of his attention keen on catching a sign of his quarry.

Nothing garners much of his focus no matter how much it flashes or glitters let alone how little is worn by some of the club’s entertainment. Minute shifts of the helm the only indication that he was alive and not some statue set out on display. Soon enough there was plenty of soft murmurings that there was some off putting hunter closing himself off to the edges. Plenty enough to rouse his prey out of hiding and finally earning a slow change in the man as he straightens up to watch.

Sometimes it pays to play the stereotype afterall.

No matter how much he flaunted himself as being retired from the line of duty, his quarry continued on wearing the garb of his class for the most part. Maybe now more ornamental than practical as he tries to recall.

Golds accenting storm grey robes that held enough glitz and glam to catch attention. Ripples of black along the fabric though not drawing away from the worn leather and gleaming metal on his chest. At least there was no longer that awful ram skull hiding away that smug smile and predatory eyes. Was there even a helmet to go with all this? As he wonders, his gaze flickers away before his breath stills. For a split second he wants to swear that they lock eyes for a moment but it was merely the helm’s optics enhancing the environment.

He wasn’t the exact same as when he had left. Gear changed save for the cloak that’s more frayed with time. Internally there’s almost a shift that the battle had left scarred into him. How the void had called to him, dragged him out of a grave he didn’t remember until Lance finalized his revival after struggling to lock the light back into place.

Does he have any right to be here? What if he should have stayed in that grave? The man has moved on rather well it seems. Why can’t he?

It's hard to relax after a long shift roaming around the city and maintaining the teetering balance but what made it all the more easier was the fact that his partner was awaiting in his apartment and graciously welcomed him back when he arrived. There was still some residual exhaustion but he was eager to hold a small conversation before slipping away to clean himself up from the work day. The hardest part of the whole thing was making sure that Lucifer didn't simply barge into the bathroom while he took a shower to decompress peacefully for a couple of moments.

When he's all clean and dressed in but a simple t-shirt and shorts, the reaper eyes the belt that he carried on his person as a small prank formulated in his plan. Lucifer was rather fond of all manners of serpents and he was no stranger to what the belt could do. Still that didn't mean that Matthieu couldn't surprise him nonetheless.

Belt in hand behind his back, he slowly stalks through the halls to locate his quarry. It doesn't take much to locate the man who was lounging across bed in the guest bedroom downstairs, seemingly entertaining himself with whatever was on his phone. The perfect opportunity to strike. He doesn't waste the precious chance and charges into the bedroom with a tease in french before jumping onto the bed and wrapping the belt around the unsuspecting man's waist.

The magic is activated with a quick ignition feed of his energy. However something feels distinctly off this time though he can't investigate too much as he loses his balance and slips off the bed in the end. Mission success!

...though he didn't realize what he had really done.