((Right, so we've plotted up to here. What shall we do next, once the tea party is over? Actually have them fight, ending in a tie/even more sexual tension? Or, do they have a fight, cue sexual tension, and Venus finds them, grabs them both by the ear and sneaks them into her house to sit in a room and make-up (she literally plays therapist for them like they're in need of relationship counselling)))
Virgo stormed into the apartment, and chose a seat as far away from the demon as he could. It occurred to him, as Venus threatened the demon with the revelation of...some important tidbit of information, one Virgo would have to dig around for later, was that Virgo didn't know the demon's name. Odd. Lots of demons liked to proclaim loudly, and for all to hear, what their names and titles were just to show off. Angels never did such a thing, and Virgo had no titles of importance, if at all.
Virgo crossed his legs, waited for Venus to go and make "tea," and bared his teeth in the cold imitation of a smile as the demon threatened him with dismemberment. "Oh, don't flatter yourself," Virgo hissed. "You'd have to catch me first, and I'd like to see you try that with whatever hellish wings you wear. Have the flames of hell torched them, or are you too ashamed to show them to a child?"
As he spoke, Virgo's wings manifested on his back and spread out a little, the feathers all ruffled. An intimidation technique meant for humans, but Virgo used it on just about anyone who pissed him off, which tended to be everyone. His wings, unlike a great deal of other angels', were a stormy grey with an iridescent shimmer of purple and blue and silver, like lightning in the clouds. He bared his throat yet again, a bold gesture, even for him—he knew the feeling of hands or ropes or chains around the column of his neck, but that never stopped him. Compared to everything else, choking was the equivalent of a paper cut.
The fires of anger roared through Virgo, a trait condemned by his superiors but never beat out of him; angels never beat anyone, but rather disciplined with long, tedious lectures and meditation. Nothing worked for Virgo. All he did was remember the past and run screaming from the room. So here he was, never rising above the rank of guardian angel, and never aspiring to be anything better than borderline-pariah in the eyes of his heavenly brothers.
"How did you end up in hell?" Virgo murmured, a question both to himself and also to the demon across the table. He leaned over, resting his elbows on the plastic as he narrowed his eyes. A flicker of gold ringed the pupil as Virgo reached out with his mind and brushed against the side of the demon's hoping to catch a glimpse of his name. "What crime did you commit? What sin?"
Watch out for the scrollie!