[Comm] Dressed to the Ates

Darlet genuinely felt bad for putting holes in the suit he had ordered from Peter. But in order to give this costume that extra personal flare, some sacrifices needed to be made. His claws were quite sharp, and dragging them hard enough over the pressed fabric seemed to do just the trick in shredding apart the fine sewn linen. He tried to trim around the gashes he'd made, cleaning up frayed strings and tactfully exaggerating the look of the damages. Making sure not to fully ruin what was otherwise a very well crafted outfit. 

Despite the suit's black and orange colour scheme closely matching his own, he felt a bit strange in it. He never wore clothing this nice outside of his outfits on stage. But even those were not quite so form fitting, clean, and proper. Wearing a suit really wasn't his style. But he had to admit, after eyeing himself up and down in the mirror, he liked the way it looked on him. Turning to get a side profile only proved just how form fitting the suit was. The effort he put in to doing squats really did show. Now he just had a few finishing touches to do for the outfit. He opened a drawer under his desk, fishing out his makeup kit. 

He studied his face, dragging the black stained brush over his cheeks carefully. He was used to lining his eyes, but full face paint was still something he had to work on. Trying to follow the tutorial on blending was pointless, and since he already knew this wouldn't be a regular occurrence. So he opted for splitting solid colours. About half way though painting the left side of his face, he stopped. A cellphone vibrating repeatedly on the desk behind him pulled his attention away. The alarm he'd set for the start of the party. He had to rush. 

Hurriedly applying the orange half of the paint to his cheek, he finally set down the brush once he felt he had done enough to call the design a success. He had planned to paint his whole face, but as he looked at himself in the mirror, he felt a pang of apprehension. He knew who he was trying to impress with this, he knew who he wanted to show up tonight. The candle he had put out, did it actually draw demons to visit? He had been anxious about that, Mr. Lied was a very kind and compassionate demon to him growing up. But would he really take to time to visit him after all this time? He didn't exactly have a way to contact him. Nobody he'd met had any solid methods to get information from outside of the burrows. 

He remembered his early childhood, the things he'd witnessed, the things that shaped him to his core. He wanted to show off the work he'd done, all of his effort. To prove he was strong and capable, just like the demon who raised him. But first, he had to suck up that anxiety. He slapped his cheek with a hand, pulling it back to a slight black residue left on his palm. He instinctively went to wipe it on his shirt, but stopped as he saw himself in the mirror. He let out a huff, maybe he was overthinking this. 'I should just have a good time. Everyone is here to party. I should be too.'

He shoved the painted hand in his pocket. Taking one last glance into the mirror before flashing a finger gun into the reflection. "Sup there handsome."