Pride

He's been busy, even though the radio silence is normal. They asked him to make his own range of perfumes, but he politely, graciously declined.

'At least think about it?'

Photos and promotional campaigns for someone else's nice-smelling bottle of shit, however, he didn't mind. In fact he was more than happy to forward the two samples they gave him to Lucifer and Satan, with a small card attached to the rim of the perfume bottle saying 'You need it more than I'.


My own range of perfumes. That might have been a big hit when I had all of Heaven at my disposal.

Hm. Woke up feeling all tingly inside. Haven't felt this way since... well, that's impossible. He's always on the opposite side of the state from me. a long time.

In other news, I seem to have misplaced my silver cross. I'm sure I had it after that dog left, so her eating it or burying it somewhere would be impossible.

Since the Big Man deigns me unworthy to speak to, who is the patron saint for finding lost things?