eyesofaserpent | Drink Count: 14 || Let's Get Plastered

Drink Count: 14 || Let's Get Plastered

A. [Phone, filtered from drones]

[After the announcement on the news, Crowley actually goes over to pick up the phone for a change.]

Er... I'm going to go into work today at Olney's Tavern. If anyone feels the need for a drink, stop on by. Today seems like a good day to get bloody pissed.

B. [Action, Olney's Tavern]

[As promised, here's Crowley behind the bar. Anyone who comes in is getting free drinks today.]

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[Not sure what that nightmare was about... but it hit him hard.

Also, stupid broadcast.]

Hey, I'll have a bottle of whiskey and a glass with no ice.

[Sitting down at the bar, wanting to drink the memory of that dream away.]

[He sets a clean glass and a bottle of top shelf whiskey on the counter.]

I'm there with you, mate.

[He picks up his own glass that has some violently pink cocktail in it.]

[He puts money on the bar, not even really thinking about that.

He's been here often enough to know prices.]

Yeah.

If you see a guy calling himself Captain Universe around here, let me know so I can punch him.

[And, much like it ended in his dream, he starts this off with a drink.]

... If you want to do that, at least take it outside. Er... And keep your money. I'm not charging people today.

[Normally he only does that for people he likes. But today it just seems like it's necessary.]

I doubt he'll show.

So, apparently I got erased. What a load of ☠☠☠☠, am I right?

You did? But you're right in front of me.

Yeah, that's why it's a load of ☠☠☠☠.

Hmm... Strange...

[Crowley seems deeply thoughtful.]

You're telling me.

It's this town. It always likes getting to you.

So I've noticed.

[Czernobog was curious about the announcement.

Still too new to have any real opinions about the whole thing. It seemed like a cruel joke, actually.]

I would like vodka on rocks.

Seems to be rough day for everyone, so slow business for me.

[Crowley fills a glass with ice and pours in some top shelf vodka. He sets the glass on a bar napkin.]

Oh? What is it you do?

Here, I cut hair. I am no good with it.

With so much sadness, your job should be busy.

I also invited everyone to come drink for free today, so...

That will do it.

I take it you saw broadcast.

[That was not a question.]

Did you know many of them?

I know a few. And only a couple of them personally.

How about yourself?

Very few beyond those I chat with on occasion.

Did you have dream?

.... I had a dream.

Did town ask you to give yourself up as well? For greater good.

They bloody well tried to have Hastur tell me to sacrifice myself. This town's bloody stupid to think I'd fall for something like that.

I'll try one of every shot you know how to make.

[Aiming to skip the rest of this bullshit via alcohol poisoning.]

Sure thing.

[Granted, he knows how to make a lot of different kinds of shots. He starts mixing up shots and setting them on the counter.]

[And she starts drinking them, offering a comment or criticism about each one.]

Not bad.

...little less Baileys on that one, don't you think?

Oh, very good job with the layering.

[She may be trying to kill herself with shots, but it looks as if this might take a while.]

[He doesn't do this for a living back home. He's just had years (read: millenia) of practice. He takes her criticism in stride. After all, everyone has different taste.]

I take it a number of people you know got erased...

Just one, actually.

[Downs another shot.]

My husband...

Oh... Well, just one is all it takes, I suppose. Are you close with him?

[She arches an eyebrow.]

Not at all, I'm just using him as an excuse to get wasted.

[The bitter sarcasm is hard to detect, but it's definitely there. She pauses, staring at the empty shot glass in her hand.]

.......Sorry. I'm afraid I've let the town's bizarre head games get to me.

[He shrugs and sets another shot before her.]

It's not... It's not hard to do.

[Unfortunately for Crowley and unlike Aziraphale, he has a very vivid imagination and creative streak. And at the moment, that imagination is supplying him with "what if" scenarios that give him pause. He mixes up a shot for himself and knocks it back.]

Not hard at all.

[Downs that shot.]

Well, whenever I emerge from the inevitable coma I intend to devote my energies toward unraveling the many mysteries of this town. If only to find a way to tear the place apart at its seams...

[Like daughter, like mother....]

Good luck to you, then. Just, er.... Be careful.

[Drinks. Yes, drinks are good.

Ema doesn't plan on getting drunk, but something to take the edge off doesn't sound like a bad idea. So, here she is to take the man up on his offer.]

Beer.

Please.

What kind? Stag, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Budweiser, Rheingold, Ballantine, Hamm's, Genesee, Schlitz, or Labatts?

((ooc: Okay, so I looked up beers of the 50's....}}

...

Which one is the best?

[Ema recognizes maybe two or three of those brands.]

((ooc: haha, that's awesome :D ))

Personally, of those I would either go with PBR or Rheingold. Though really, I'd drink a Guinness. Bloody American bar.

[Lyn heard the announcement, too, and any hopes that he'd just had the worst dream ever kind of died with it. But...he's still here, and since he doesn't seem to be fading out of existence like a ghost or something, he's hoping maybe that was just a weird trial that Mayfield put him through or something.

And really, really trying not to think about it any further than that.

So it's no surprise he's going to sidle up to the bar, especially since he knows someone's manning it who will probably not care that the town considers him underage.]

...hey. Can I get a drink, man? Or, like, twenty?

[Crowley pauses when he sees Lyn. His brows furrow into his shades. Something didn't feel quite right here.]

What'll you have?

I dunno. Whatever'll get me drunk fastest and doesn't taste like complete shit, I guess.

[He glances at Crowley. He wasn't at all surprised or concerned that Crowley's name wasn't on the list of people who'd been erased that morning. Why the hell would he be? Crowley's pretty damn cool for a demon, but neither gullibility nor altruism come naturally to their kind. (Or, at least, not any long-lived ones.) Lyn's own decision was largely inspired by the parts of him that have become accustomed to thinking and acting human - and by the few close associations he's had with humans.

So he's half expecting to be told what an idiot he is any minute now.] You hear that announcement this morning?

[He mixes up a Long Island Ice Tea and sets it in front of Lyn.]

Yeah. I did.

[Something feels entirely not right here. According to the announcement, Lyn was erased. This being before him clearly can't be who he appears to be. What is Mayfield playing at now? Erasing people and then sending bad copies in their place? Bollocks.

Still... There's no harm in being civil to the fake. Maybe he can get some information out of him...]

Why would you go and do a bloody stupid thing like that?

Tch. I'm already bloody pissed but are you seriously offering me free drinks?

[ She sounds very, very elated.]

I'll foist the tab onto some poor schmuck drone.

[A certain red head is slipping in to a spot at the bar.]

Surprise me eh?

Sure thing, mate.

[He takes a hurricane glass and fills it with crushed ice. Then he pours in an ounce of light rum, an ounce of gold rum, a half ounce of apricot brandy, an ounce of pineapple juice, an ounce of guava juice, and an ounce of mango juice. He squeezes in the juice of half a lime and half a lemon and then dumps the contents of the glass into a shaker. He caps it, shakes the hell out of it and then pours it back into the hurricane glass. On the very top he pours in a splash of 151 rum and then lights it on fire. He sets the flaming drink in front of Axel.]

You seem like someone who appreciates fire. Just, er... blow it out before you drink.

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Drink Count: 14 || Let's Get Plastered

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Thanks for the reminder!

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A with the intent of phasing into B. || also icon only used for the keywords!

pfff

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