There were 240 pence in a pound until 1971

[onlyanapple]

Well, well, this has been an interesting few days, hasn't it? All that chaos and embarrassment, and I didn't even have to lift a finger. Sometimes I think this castle is after my job. I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or threatened.

Anyway, for those of you idiots who haven't caught on yet, the journals are broken. But if you feel you really must pour all your thoughts and feelings into a magical book that is connected to the magical thought that kidnapped you, then go right ahead. Honestly, it's like being surprised that the rabid dog has bitten you.

[It hasn't stopped him writing all the little secrets in a notebook, though. Never know when they might come in handy]

Still. Thanks for the entertaining week, Paradisa. You've all been great.

Incidentally, as I promised I would, the answer to my riddle: The couple hear of the deadly scorpions that lived in the area, and put a glass of vodka under each foot of their child's crib. Scorpions don't like alcohol as they have no class.

Comments

[i_got_this]

Bed. It's probably bigger. [She tromps in like the knows the place and follows Crolwey's gesture upstairs. She's far more subdued and broody then her earlier visit (and resulting tantrum). She wasn't aware of the conversation between North and Wash, but because of that odd empathy between twins, she swears she can almost feel things disintegrating.]

I gotta get out of this armor before we get drinking. It's a bitch to get off sober. I don't even want to attempt it drunk.

[onlyanapple]

Fair enough. [He'll close the door, following her upstairs. At least he wouldn't push her for answers, or try to nudge her into talking about it. Though the worry coming off her is a touch concerning]

I can imagine, that's how you'd end up with a broken neck.

[i_got_this]

Pretty much. That really won't make things any more enjoyable.

[She'll just let herself into his room and dump her duffel on the bed, ripping off her helmet and tossing it down after. Her expression is drawn and dark.]

[onlyanapple]

[Well, that's not a good sign]

Sounds like you really need that drink, then.

[i_got_this]

Ya think?

[She just glares at him a moment, moving with practiced fingers to work at the latches on her armor plating and shed it next to her armor.] I certainly don't come here for board games.

[onlyanapple]

You know, there's really no need to be rude to the person letting you sleep in his bed.

[Giving her a pointed look before going about pouring some whiskey into a glass for her]

[i_got_this]

[She doesn't answer, continuing to glare at him sullenly while she strips down to the black undersuit. She pauses to scrub her hands over her face in mental exhaustion, hoping the drink is ready because damn if she needed something numbing.]

Yeah well, I'm in a mood so it's best not to cross me. [Her voice lacks the earlier edge, her idea of an apology.] What you got for me?

[onlyanapple]

As if I would dare. [He'll hand it over] Whiskey. I have anything you should wish to drown your problems in here, though.

[i_got_this]

[She takes it and throws it back in one movement, grimacing a little at the burn.]

I'll take however many more of these it takes to knock me out.

[onlyanapple]

[He arches a brow at that]

Thaaaat might take a while. [Starts to make drink, just casually lining them up for yep]

[i_got_this]

Then punch me in the face. I don't care, I just ... don't want to be conscious right now.

[Might be a good idea. Once she gets going she might punch a wall or something.]

[onlyanapple]

I am not punching you in the face. I have certain standards, thank you very much. I can give you cirrhosis of the liver, but that's about it.

[Just keep pouring drinks, doop doop]

[i_got_this]

Guess I'll have to take what I can get. [Throwing back another. This is going to seem like a very bad idea in a few minutes.]

[onlyanapple]

[At least he can magically tidy up after her, though he is watching with somewhat of a grimace]

...Shall I get you a bucket to throw up into?

[i_got_this]

Only if you want to keep your carpets clean.

[She's definitely in a mood. But, she doesn't take the third drink right away, settling back and sipping at it and looking at him.] Tell me something about your world. Something long and involved. I need a distraction.

[onlyanapple]

[He sighs, wandering over to a cupboard, eventually pulling out a unused plant pot, placing it pointedly at her feet]

You mean Earth? [He shrugs, leaning on the wall] There's rather a lot of history to cover there. Do you want anything specific?

[i_got_this]

I don't know, whatever you can think of, whatever you found interesting. Earth according to Crowely.

And let's try to avoid the states, okay? I don't need any reminders.

[onlyanapple]

Earth according to Crowley hmm? [There's a chuckle, as if at his own private joke]

Don't worry, I was never a fan of America in general. [He considers for a moment]

How about a war?

[i_got_this]

[Yeah she's been in space for a long time, she's not really going to argue that one way or another.]

Yes, wars are good. Tell me about wars. [Not to say that wars themselves were good, but was something familiar that should at the same time offer an appropriate distraction from her own, current hurts.]

[onlyanapple]

Right. Well, between 1914 and 1918, there was the First World War. The Great War, the humans called it. There were two sides, made up of the great powers in the world as they fought over... I don't fucking know, whatever it is humans decide to try and bork each other over.

[He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it with a snap of his fingers and taking a long drag]

A good deal of fighting was done on the Western Line, a large group of trenches, with a big, open space between called No Man's Land. So called because...well, to go up there generally meant you suddenly found yourself coming down with a case of Shot to Death.

[i_got_this]

Yeah, I'd always figured being between two shooting forces wasn't really a place I'd like to go.

So what'y you do in all that?

[onlyanapple]

I watched. [Maybe made a few miracles happen, made it so a few soldiers on each side lived in situations which they wouldn't have otherwise. But this, this he keeps to himself]

Anyway, the point I'm getting to is at Christmas time, 1914, everyone got sick of fighting. Can't blame them, they were cold, wet, starving, dying of a plethora of illness from living in the trenches or from wounds inflicted on them. So they just stopped.

And slowly, each side ventured out into No Man's Land. They sang carols, shared food, showed one another gifts from home, shared stories. All these men, who had been told they had to kill one another by some higher power just stayed together and had a holiday. Most of them didn't even speak the same language. But they did it anyway.

[i_got_this]

Huh, really?

[She thinks on this a moment, then drains the rest of her drink.] I don't know if I could share a fruitcake with a grunt.

[onlyanapple]

Well, there you go.

Anyway, they showed that even in their darkest moments, humans could do something decent. Make their lives worthwhile, greater good, and all that bollocks.

[i_got_this]

Yeah, well. Apparently that's not me. [She sits back on the bed and looks at the empty glass cradled in her hands. She'd been trying to keep up the indifference, trying to block it out, but dammit even Crowley's story makes her think back on why she's there in the first place.]