Eleventh Temptation ♆ [Dictated/Action for anyone currently at Death Match]

[putuporshutup]

[There's no mistaking it - Meg is drunk. Not an easy feat for a demon by any normal stretch of the imagination, but dammit, she's devoted. The sound of her pouring another glass of whiskey is a sure sign shes not slowing down any time soon, either.]

Look-- [She starts, slurring every so often with the cold, detached air of someone well beyond intoxicated, an unmistakable edge of pain and anger hardly disguised under the exagerratedly enthusiastic speech, both into the journal and to anyone in the bar] Hey -- Paradisa. You're all kinda miserable, right? I mean, all I hear half the time is people bitching and moaning about this place and how awful it is and how to get out of here and blah blah blah... I usually like it just fine here but my God has this been a shitty week, ya feel me?

Anyway, if you're miserable too, come to the bar. Drinks on the house - on the Castle of course, my mistake - as much as it takes us all to froget whatever the hell is wrong with all of us. I'll call it the "Misery loves comapny" special and it goes 'til I say it's over.

[She pauses and takes a swig out of the bottle next to her before adding,]

And if you're not... stay the hell out.

Comments

[onlyanapple]

Like I'd ever say no to free booze. [And not because he's concerned about her or anything.]

[putuporshutup]

Then get your ass down here and let's show this place how it's done. [And not because she totally needs a friend right now. N O P E.]

[onlyanapple]

Well, with an invitation like that...

[And sure enough, he eventually makes his way to the castle to pull himself up a barstool.]

[sheps]

[Here, have someone that resembles a militaristic jarhead looking your way. In spite of the rough exterior and inclination toward looking as much as a solder as possible minus the armor... she's actually nestling a drink that looks like the equivalent of a unlit glowstick. She can't help but overhear your scorn!]

Let me guess. Rough day.

dictated;

[lord_wizard]

How miserable are we required to be for this invitation? [Because overall, yes, although he can't say that this week has been a bad one for him. Valentine's has a way of working in his favor, most years]

dictated;

[putuporshutup]

[The most sarcastic of tones] I don't know. Use your best judgement.

[putuporshutup]

Wow, you're right. Whaddya want, a cupcake?

[She turns around, eyeing the stranger and her weird-ass drink.]

The hell is that, anyway? Is it any good?

[putuporshutup]

Well, well, well. Look who's gracing us lowly castle dwellers with his unholy presence.

[She leans over the bar to kiss him on the cheek.

Yeah, did she mention she's wasted?]

What'll it be, Snakeyes?

dictated;

[lord_wizard]

[The most good-natured but self-deprecating of tones] Well, there's little chance of that, I'm afraid.

dictated;

[putuporshutup]

Oh then you can definitely come.

dictated;

[lord_wizard]

[He's far too aware of his poor life choices at this point.]

Good. Which watering hole are you taking advantage of today?

dictated;

[putuporshutup]

Oh you don't know? [Dude. C'mon. She's kind of a big deal.] My bar. Death Match.

dictated;

[lord_wizard]

[Felix usually chooses to drink in his own room or in places like the Nines or Chimera headquarters. Bars are...not his usual type of venue.]

Your bar. Well. May the powers strike me down for my inattention.

[sheps]

[Not a stranger to being facetious, she grins.]

They serve those here?

[And taking a look at her drink...] Turian vodka, mostly. Didn't thik I could wish for that here.

[onlyanapple]

Consider yourself lucky I deigned this a good enough reason for the trip.

[He arches an eyebrow at that kiss, before doesn't say anything about it.]

I'll have whatever you've been drinking. [Mostly doesn't anyway.]

[im_the_doctor]

[The Doctor enters the bar and looks around. He heard the call out on the journal. Although the message isn't what brought him here, but the familiarity to the sound of the voice. He remembers her. How happy she was and now so miserable. He couldn't not come.]

Hello Meg, how are you doing?

dictated;

[putuporshutup]

Indeed. Five lashings for you. And by that, I mean shots.

[putuporshutup]

I serve whatever the hell anyone wants here. Not exactly limited on inventory, as you can imagine.

[putuporshutup]

[She looks up and manages a halfhearted smile at the familiar man. They had only met once, briefly in town, but he was friendly enough.]

Hey. John, right? [She chuckles and gives him a look and avoids the question.] Can I get you a drink?

[putuporshutup]

Oh, get off your high horse. You had to come. Couldn't resist seeing the trainwreck.

[She gestures vaguely up and down her torso, a half-ass, drunken attempt at Vanna White, and pours him a glass of whiskey before holding up her own for a toast.]

To drowning our sorrows.

[onlyanapple]

Well, there is that.

[He raises his own glass, clinking it against hers.]

In the least healthy way possible.

dictated;

[lord_wizard]

As long as you let me set the pace. And for reference, I prefer bourbon. Be ready with a good bottle...

dictated;

[putuporshutup]

Deal. Nothing but top shelf for you, friend.

[putuporshutup]

And? Be honest. How horrible is the hair?

[She takes a sip, luckily swallowing just before she would have choked on her whiskey laughing at his assessment of their coping mechanism of choice.]

Who cares? We're demons.

[onlyanapple]

I've seen far worse.

[That's a compliment, right?]

And why would we want to be anything else? [Trick question.]