The laughter, usually sarcastic or intended to punctuate a point, is at least somewhat genuine this time. Friendly face-- excellent one, he has decided he quite likes her brand of humour, designed to be amusing without insulting.
"I must say, your hospitality is quite something else, my dear. One would hope the other Overlords could model themselves similarly."
"Thank you, darlin'. My mother raised me right! There's a few Overlords that're good teatime company once you get to know them, it's just a matter of sorting through the politics and doing the dance."
She pauses to crack a rib bone right in half, daintily picking up a tea spoon to start scooping the marrow out.
"I won't name names, I'll let you have the fun of sorting them out yourself - it's no fun settling into the rungs if someone's holding your hand, if you ask me."
Alastor doesn't believe in having power handed to him, even in small ways. It always came with strings attached and he refused to find himself as someone else's puppet (oh how the future him would laugh in disgusted despair), he preferred to be the one holding the strings if at all possible.
Finally relaxing into the situation, he crosses one long leg over the other and takes a sip of his tea, his eyes cocked towards her attentively.
"I've got a few hobbies to occupy my time. This Emporium I started up with Franklin over there is to take a shot diving into fashion a bit more - see, things have been moving towards a 'little black dress' direction and filling your wardrobe with tacky things you only wear to get taken off, and it just doesn't make a good environment for the little ones!"
There's of course an amusing irony to that, given the absolutely gothic use of bones in the decor and fashion of the place as it is. And, given most of the child Sinners in town are still Sinners and likely have been around for many years...
"No, here, we want to revel and bring a little spark of energy to the place! Get together for socials, share the news, get swept up in song and dance, the works!"
There is the barest narrowing of Alastor's eyes when she mentions the fashions in the rest of the Pride ring and how lascivious everyone seems to be. It's not his style at all, which ought to be obvious from the fact he's completely covered from head to toe in a style that couldn't be called seductive in any way.
"I rather think I may become a regular visitor, then."
A place run with the manners and old fashioned things he enjoys? He's more and more impressed with cannibal town by the moment. He stands up and gives her a small nod of respect.
"I hope you will continue to enjoy my broadcasts, and forgive me if I never offer you a guest spot yourself."
As if anyone would want a guest spot, considering it involved being torn apart live on air.
"Of course! We'll just enjoy the jazz intermissions and the sound of crumbling towers here," Rosie chuckled, using a hunk of rib to stir her tea. "DO come by and gossip about how some of them taste, though! I've been dying to know how Goetia tastes, if you're bold enough to take the parrot fellow on."
"Should I ever be lucky enough to taste Goetia flesh, I will be sure to save a cut for you to sample yourself."
It's not just an act of gallantry, it's a payment for the kindness shown so far and the tip about territory unguarded. Alastor doesn't like owing favours, even small ones.
"Perfect!! We'll have a day of it, a lovely little picnic! They're a tricky sort, they've got a different well of magic to draw on than just Deals, after all - but the littler ones can't be much stronger than the Overlords you've already snagged, darling," Rosie encouraged fondly.
Sure, if one were cynical, it could be a ploy to get a potential rival to his doom... but the way Rosie sees it, it's only a matter of time before he takes on that parrot asshole anyway.
Rosie and Alastor haven't yet known each other long enough for her to be able to tell the subtle differences between his smiles, but the one he gives her as he slightly bows politely is mostly genuine for the implied compliment to his strength.
"A pleasure to have met you, Rosie. Until next time."
He half waves his staff as he turns to go, Cannibal Town safe from the Radio Demon-- at least for now.
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no subject
The laughter, usually sarcastic or intended to punctuate a point, is at least somewhat genuine this time. Friendly face-- excellent one, he has decided he quite likes her brand of humour, designed to be amusing without insulting.
"I must say, your hospitality is quite something else, my dear. One would hope the other Overlords could model themselves similarly."
no subject
She pauses to crack a rib bone right in half, daintily picking up a tea spoon to start scooping the marrow out.
"I won't name names, I'll let you have the fun of sorting them out yourself - it's no fun settling into the rungs if someone's holding your hand, if you ask me."
no subject
Alastor doesn't believe in having power handed to him, even in small ways. It always came with strings attached and he refused to find himself as someone else's puppet (oh how the future him would laugh in disgusted despair), he preferred to be the one holding the strings if at all possible.
Finally relaxing into the situation, he crosses one long leg over the other and takes a sip of his tea, his eyes cocked towards her attentively.
"Do tell me more about yourself."
no subject
There's of course an amusing irony to that, given the absolutely gothic use of bones in the decor and fashion of the place as it is. And, given most of the child Sinners in town are still Sinners and likely have been around for many years...
"No, here, we want to revel and bring a little spark of energy to the place! Get together for socials, share the news, get swept up in song and dance, the works!"
no subject
"I rather think I may become a regular visitor, then."
A place run with the manners and old fashioned things he enjoys? He's more and more impressed with cannibal town by the moment. He stands up and gives her a small nod of respect.
"I hope you will continue to enjoy my broadcasts, and forgive me if I never offer you a guest spot yourself."
As if anyone would want a guest spot, considering it involved being torn apart live on air.
no subject
no subject
It's not just an act of gallantry, it's a payment for the kindness shown so far and the tip about territory unguarded. Alastor doesn't like owing favours, even small ones.
no subject
Sure, if one were cynical, it could be a ploy to get a potential rival to his doom... but the way Rosie sees it, it's only a matter of time before he takes on that parrot asshole anyway.
no subject
"A pleasure to have met you, Rosie. Until next time."
He half waves his staff as he turns to go, Cannibal Town safe from the Radio Demon-- at least for now.