Drink Count: 17 || New World, New Home

[eyesofaserpent]

[Forward dated to January 16.]


A. [Action: 852 Goldberg Street, ridiculous o'clock]

[The alarm klaxons jarred Crowley out of a comfortable sleep. The demon sat bolt upright and blinked his yellow snake eyes blearily. It took him a minute to realize that something was off about the room he was in. The shadow of the tree outside wasn't quite right. The wallpaper was different. His "wife" didn't look the same.

His wife didn't look the same.

He jumped out of the bed, blessing under his breath.]

Bollocks.


B. [Action: 852 Goldberg Street, later morning]

[He checked to make sure his Bentley was in the garage. It was. He also found his puppy and all her accessories in exactly the same places they had been in 915 Bilko Boulevard, only in this new house. How strange.

Crowley was dressed in a smart black suit and red shirt that had once been scratchy slacks and a hideous jumper. He was also, of course, wearing his snakeskin shoes and sunglasses. He sat at the kitchen table, drinking a poor excuse for a cup of coffee. He was going to have to go shopping.]


C. [Action: 915 Bilko Boulevard, around noon]

[He can't stop himself for wanting to check on Kyon. He couldn't leave the poor boy alone without at least checking to see if he was alright, right? He drives on over and parks in the driveway. The demon strides into the house as if he lives there. Which he did up until this morning.]

Kyon? Are you in here, kid?


D. [Action: Olney's Tavern, late afternoon]

[Crowley's looking a bit irritable behind the bar. What the hell is with this town?]

What'll you have?


E. [Phone: Locked to Aziraphale]

[Crowley's just a little on edge when he's able to get to the back of the tavern to make his phone call to Aziraphale. He paces as far as the phone cord will let him and he's hissing a bit.]

Pick up. Pickuppickuppickup! Bloody hell Angel, this is not the time to neglect your bloody phone!

Comments

[eyesofaserpent]

Probably both. [This is not the first time he's been told this. He's clearly quite proud of himself.]

[kingofshadows]

You are awful.

You are the Queen of Spades. The Old Maid. The million dollar prize flanked by game overs on a turnstile of fortune. The snake-eyes in a game of craps. To come across you is a rare delight that few have the pleasure of knowing, and yet somehow simultaneously an omen of arse-contemplating doom.

[He sighs a little and props his head up on his still folded arms.]

...

You see?

I've gone and wiped my sleeves all over the countertop soaked with unidentifiable fluid which I can only hope is alcohol. And I really can't be bothered to lift them.

[eyesofaserpent]

You get very talkative when you're drunk. Somehow more than usual.

[He looks at the counter for a moment.]

I wiped the counter down just before you arrived, so it's either wet with a sanitizing towel, of you spilled your drink on it.

[kingofshadows]

I should be slurring, but I find that it impedes the coherency of my charming banter.

[Contrary to his previous words, he lifts his sleeves and stares at them for a moment or two.]

You know, I think I'm more drunk than I thought.

[One sleeve will be replaced while the other digs in his pockets and returns with a deck of cards.]

[eyesofaserpent]

I think I'll have to cut you off for the night. Have you eaten anything?

[kingofshadows]

In contrast to your demonic powers, I possess but the humble ability to transform ethanol into the nutritional value of a full four course meal. It comes in handy when I'm feeling particularly unhappy.

[Grimsley removes his deck, shuffles and spreads them out on the perfectly clean countertop. He draws one idly and replaces the rest.]

[eyesofaserpent]

Yes, but drinking on an empty stomach makes you drunker than intended...

[Though he watches with interest.]

[kingofshadows]

The secret to my success is that I am always drunker than I intend.

[It is the Jack of Spades. Grimsley examines it for a few moments with a faint smile before it's flicked back into the deck.]

Do you believe in divination, Crowley?

[eyesofaserpent]

Not usually. There are few true seers. Most others are either deluding themselves, others, or both.

[kingofshadows]

Delusions are a powerful thing.

[He draws two more out at random.]

I find only the people who believe in divination are subject to the whims of fortune and luck. You're better off making your own.

For instance, by humoring those who entertain such delusions.

[4 of Clubs. 9 of Spades.]

Alas.

I appear to be on my deathbed, Crowley. Surely you can spare some more drink for one in dire straits.

[eyesofaserpent]

Luckily for you, that death will only last until morning.

[Still, he pours a Vodka Sunrise for him.]

[kingofshadows]

Ah. The scales begin to tip back in favor of best friend.

[Grimsley takes the drink with something of a tired smile. He manages to get about halfway after a few sips. Then he pauses at one point before it reaches his lips, slowly lowering it back to the table.]

...

But perhaps... you're right, after all.

[eyesofaserpent]

Oh? Right about what?

[kingofshadows]

Oh. Everything. Drinking. Divination. Your arse. ...Regrets.

Right.

This one down the hatch, and I'm off.

[eyesofaserpent]

Hush. It's the drink talking.

[kingofshadows]

Perhaps the drink is a more perceptive man than I.

[As promised, Grimsley finishes the rest, licks his lips for a moment or two, and rises to depart.

...And sits back down immediately.]</small. Er. Also a more uncoordinated one.

[eyesofaserpent]

Maybe you should stay here for a bit, mate.

[kingofshadows]

Eh.

I'll be fine. Just a breather...

[He tries again, to greater success this time, though he still manages to smash into the counter as he turns away.]

And a good evening to you, Crowley. Don't enjoy yourself too much.

[eyesofaserpent]

What if I do?

[kingofshadows]

Then I shall be deeply disappointed that you allowed me to leave.

[eyesofaserpent]

I tried to stop you.

[kingofshadows]

It's for the best, I think. I only have so many interesting topics to fall back on before I have to resort to your arse again.

[He waves nonchalantly as he exits.]

Goodnight, friend.

[eyesofaserpent]

Goodnight, Grimsley.