paradisa | In the year 232 AD Porphyry was born

[Crowley wasn't surprised by waking up from a long sleep. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it, and it wouldn't be the last. Unlike the vast majority of castle residents, he'd had a dreamless sleep, one of the pros of being a demon. They didn't have a true imagination. Not enough to conjure up a dream or a nightmare, anyway.

Still, he'd checked the journal to find...nothing. For days, except a few worried comments from people in the town. So this was a castle thing then. Right. He'd probably better check that people aren't dead or something. That would have been unfortunate. There were people he liked here.

And so the demon decided to go check if people were alive or not. Not that he cared. He was just curious. Yeah. Unfortunately for Crowley, he'd decided to check up on Faye, who's nameplate was most decidedly not there any more and who's room was very empty. Fuck. It had happened again]

For anyone who gives a damn, Faye Valentine has gone home.

[He closed his journal and headed back to his room, preparing for his usual plan of drinking until he could pretend he didn't care about anything any more. Drink away the hurt and the bubbling anger at this stupid damn castle that just ruined everyone's lives. ...Except his booze cabinet was empty. This was unusual, but hey he knew a lot of assholes who stole things, so he made the extra trip to the Nines...only to find the booze there gone too. When he speaks into the journal now, he's angry. Very angry]

Right, so where the fuck has all the alcohol gone? Because if someone thinks this is funny, I'm not laughing. You can probably tell from my tone that I'm not laughing. But if you can't, let me clue you in. This is the tone of voice used when someone or something is going to be set on fucking fire if there isn't a reasonable explanation for this.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Guess I'll have to try harder.

It always amuses me. How fast you people want to head to your final destination, instead of sitting back to enjoy the journey. That's the most interesting part, you know.

Enjoy the journey? It's fucking horrible. I can't imagine how anything could be worse.

[That just gets a laugh from Crowley]

You say that now. But you haven't experienced Heaven or Hell. I've been to both and trust me when I tell you, Earth is the place to be. Or whatever approximation of Earth you may have.

Space. [South corrects. She still doesn't sound at all swayed.] I live in space. Earth is like, one of just hundreds of planets we humans have claimed. They're all shitty.

Right. The space thing.

Still, it's better than Heaven or Hell. Pretty much anything is. You can't get a decent drink in either for a start.

Edited 2012-10-12 03:47 (UTC)

Let me remind you I can't get a decent drink here either right now.

There's drink in the town still, apparently.

Yeah, but ... that's in town.

[After the whole nightmare incident, she's not at all inclined to leave her room and risk getting caught by anyone she might have 'nightmared' with.]

True. I suppose it depends if you dislike the thought of going into town or being without alcohol the most.

[South pauses for a long time, because for her this is a serious consideration, before finally sighing in resignation.] If you go, bring me some back, 'kay?

I think I'm going to move myself into the town for good.

...But I might be inclined to visit. You know, encouraging vice and all that.

That does sound like a good idea.

Yeah, anytime you want to drinking without someone whining how it's going to destroy your liver or some shit, my couch is open. [As close as she's going to get to openly admitting she likes his company.]

I have people with a room to spare. It'll be a bugger, living without the wishes. But it's a small price to pay for not being fucked about any more.

[That gets a chuckle, aww South. You'll make him grow a heart] Well, I can certainly off you that much.

I think I'll stick it out a little longer, for the wishes.

Good, it's no fun drinking alone. No one to complain at.

Good luck with that.

And no one likes to drunkenly complain alone. Why, when you do that, you're just being a plain crazy drunk, and no one wants that.

Thanks. Something tells me I need it.

Pft. Ain't that the truth. No crazy ramblings for me.

[...]

So when can you come over?

Give me an hour or two, and I'll be there.

Perfect.

I'll be there soon~

Good. This sobriety thing is getting annoying.

I couldn't agree more.

Oh, just shut up, get your ass over here, and get me drunk. [Sober South is a cranky South!]

No please, no thank you, tsk tsk.

[Still, when he says he'll be heading over, he does. He's good like that]

You'll get that when I get booze.

[That's her little brand of affection, right there.]

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