lifenet | text ; 8/10

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text ; 8/10

right, cant say im much for mass communication without a character limit but needs must. im new in town, got a couple questions, figured i could crowdsource the answers

1. how have you lot not gone mental from boredom? there's got to be something to do around here that isnt poking about that miserable other island

[This is to say that while Crowley is, in fact, genuinely bored, he's also sort of eager to help around the island (he likes feeling useful, don't @ him about it) but if he actually admitted that out loud he'd immediately crumble to dust, because he's a demon, and demons aren't helpful.]

2. follow up to point 1, has anyone got a good grasp of what animals can be hunted? ive seen flowering sheep and furbies and i dont wanna waste energy on something thats not edible

3. bad idea to swim in the lake? yes or no?

4. ill trade my left arm for a bloody tshirt if anyones got a spare

[Not technically a question, but please, he's dying squirtle.]

cheers

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Alrighty, I'll get it over to you.

[ He's bored and could use a bit of a stroll. ]

There's a place with some elven wizards, they sell all kinds of crap. Some of it is soap.

[ He still has his bar, even if it is getting tiny. ]

I dunno what Beau paid for out beds, but it shouldn't be that expensive?

[ It might honestly be something he'd give up his very narrow amount of stories for. ]

'ppreciate it, want me to meet you by the bridge?

[That feels like a half-decent compromise, since this guy is doing him a favor by bringing the shirt over.]

Right, elves, wizards, 'course. I'll have to check it out.

[Hello??? Elves??? He's like two seconds away from calling Aziraphale and yelling that there are elves here, but he's trying to pretend like this isn't as batshit as it is.]

Well, I'm skint right now on the story front but I figure there's a few good ones up my sleeves, I've had a busy life. Should be enough for a tub.

Sounds good!

[ He's gonna sashay over there, looking for the redhead while still talking on the stone. ]

Yeah, they're pretty good. [ From what he hears, at least. He's only had half a chat with the male one so far, but Ren obviously loves them. ]

Probably makes a lot of shit with Transmutation.

[ Elves are so normal to him, sorry Crowley. He doesn't get it. ]

If you get one, let me know.

I'm the bloke in sunglasses and a lot of black, hard to miss.

[It's easy enough to cut down some of the distance he has to walk by just sort of tugging at the space around him, so he'll probably make it to the bridge before Molly, he'll just find a spot to sprawl so he can chat as he waits.]

You'll have to explain that one to me, not heard of transmutation before. But sure, I'll give you a heads up. You wanna borrow my bathtub?

[Just a bit amused, there.]

Sounds hot.

[ He means that in so many ways.

Molly keeps walking, tail swishing a bit behind him as he carries the t-shirt in one hand and the last of the wine he stole from Io.

Being at least a little tipsy was how he survived here, after all. ]

I have no idea how that shit works, but our wizard also did it? I think? Changing things to another thing.

[ Shrug?? ]

...and I mean, if you're offering? I was more thinking of grabbing my own if it worked, but I'm flexible.

[That just earns a chuckle from Crowley, which could be an agreement to any part of that statement.]

Water into wine, right. That kind of thing.

[Technically, Crowley supposes, that's well within the range of his own magic. Or at least, it would be at home, but he's not used to really thinking of magic in terms of schools or areas. It just — is. It's not even really magic when it all comes down to it, that's just an easy way to refer to the way he can manipulate reality.]

Flexible, huh? [Now he sounds even more amused, but he's also got himself propped up on elbow watching the bridge, and:] Is that you coming across now?

I wish.

[ Gods, he'd be over there all the time if that was the truth????

Anyway, have a purple tiefling coming over the hill, waving a pink t-shirt over his head and grinning at the man in black by the bridge. ]

Hello there, aren't we looking sharp?

[ He winks before he comes close enough to actually hand over the shirt. ]

Delivery of one T-shirt, courtesy of Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to his friends.

[Crowley's back on his feet by the time Molly's closer, hands in his pockets, looking for all the world as if he was poured into his outfit like some kind of liquid taken form. All those millennia as human shaped but there's no losing the serpent.

He'd be more startled by Molly's appearance if he hadn't already met Jester, but he has to assume that these two are the same kind of being, judging by the appearance. The fact Molly feels similar to the way Jester did, familiar yet unfamiliar, not evil but definitely something just cinches it.]

Not exactly tropical island get up though, is it?

[He does appreciate the compliment anyway. Vanity isn't like, a cardinal sin, but Crowley sees no harm in indulging it anyway.]

Thanks. [The t-shirt is happily accepted, turned over in his hands so he can grin at the slogan, before he turns his attention back to Molly.] Anthony Crowley, not Tony if you value your life. It's a pleasure, Molly.

[He offers a hand to shake, because he's British Enough that these sorts of things are ingrained.]

[ This is why Molly wears circus leggings. All the look of being a second skin and none of the awkward moving issues in super tight materials. He can't deny it looks really good, though. How the guy gets them off at night must be a feat. ]

Sorry, dear. All out of coconut bras.

[ Blame the people here for how he even knows that quip.

The tiefling takes the offered hand with his, the lavender skin adorned with a coiling snake among colorful flowers, the head resting sideways on the back of his hand like it is about to swallow it whole. Its red eye looks oddly alive. ]

Nice to meet you, Anthony.

[The trick with the pants is that usually he'd just disappear them into the ether once he's done with them, without actually having to wriggle his way out of them.

Tragically, that isn't as much of an option here.]

Oh, it's alright, it wouldn't go with this get up anyway.

[He could be referring to the rest of his outfit, the pants and the shoes would look ridiculous with a coconut bra. But really he means this particular shape he's got on right now.

His attention is caught by the tattoo, though; he turns Molly's hand a little to catch a better look at it before releasing him.]

Fan of snakes, are we?

[ Magic skinny jeans. Oh, how unfair. ]

I mean, I could probably get you a coconut thong and you can wear that with the t-shirt, but they chafe horribly.

[ What even is this discussion?

The tattoo question is much easier to focus on, because how many times have people asked? How many lies has he made up about it? ]

Oh, you could say that. It's kind of a family story. My mother was bit in the hand by a snake when she was carrying me, so for a while that was the reason why I came out with horns. I figured I'd just make it mine.

[That gets a snort of laughter.]

I'll pass, thanks.

[Crowley might be pretty flexible about a lot of things, but he draws the line at thongs, coconut or otherwise.]

Is that so? Not that I'm an expert — [he is, he is very much an expert.] — but I don't think snake venom does that sorta thing.

[Honestly, he's just being a bit cheeky, no hard feelings about a lie or two.]

Nothing wrong with making something yours, though, I can get that.

[He tips his head slightly, showing off the snake coiled at his temple.]

Obviously not, but people are superstitious as fuck and like to explain weird shit with weirder shit.

[ shrug.jpg ]

I'm very fond of making such things mine.

[ He leans in (just a bit closer than appropriate) to check out that little snake, and then gives it a little poke before he gestures to the feather on his own face. ]

Definitely stylish.

[People don't touch Crowley, generally, when he exudes a vague aura of it being a generally bad idea to get too close to him. But that's fine, he's adaptable, his smile is just a bit wry as he regards Molly.]

Oh, I know all about superstition, got me in trouble once or twice.

[This is, perhaps, a little more than he'd reveal to a human, but Molly is clearly not human, and Crowley is curious. He tips his glasses down, showing off his slitted eyes.]

Got an affinity for peacocks, then?

[Judging by that feather.]

[ This is how Molly gets in trouble, poking people that definitely doesn't want to be poked, all in the name if both being an ass and getting to know what buttons to push. ]

Oh, I can understand that.

[ Those eyes are gorgeous and there's a grin back at the little dip of the glasses - all fangs and then a bit of a forked tongue as he reaches to touch his own tattoo again. ]

Very much so. Absolutely gorgeous birds, and huge assholes.

[ Molly pulls down his neckline a bit to show how the feather keeps going into a full peacock train. ]

[Crowley didn't get too good a look at all these little features when he was talking to Jester, so he quirks a brow at those teeth and that tongue. They're both traits he could adopt, if he wanted, but he's never seen much use in them. The eyes are the only thing he can't change, aside from reigning them in enough to give himself sclera.]

Should that be a warning, the asshole thing?

[If that's what Molly's adorned himself with, does it mean he's an asshole?

Not that Crowley cares, most people he knows are assholes.]

[ To be fair, the fork was thanks to his devil's tongue bloodline rather than the cuteness of Jester being Jester.

Fangs, though? Definitely a tiefling thing. (Or a snake thing.) ]

Oh yes, definitely. I'm an ostentatious dick.

[ He winks at that, as if it's an inside joke or something. Molly could be a right bastard, but not in a particularly evil way. ]

I wasn't going to say anything about the outfit, but now you mention it...

[That's bold coming from Anthony "the j stands for j-vanity" Crowley, though he isn't particularly ostentious. Flashy, yes, but not quite ostentious.

More importantly, though, he finally acknowledges that bottle of wine with a gesture towards it.]

That to share, or are you taunting the new bloke?

[Since he clearly does not have alcohol, which is a tragedy.]

I live to blind as many people as possible.

[ Molly says, shaking a sleeve a bit so the sequins shimmer. At the same time, he's generously handing over the wine to the suffering. It's red, and probably not that great - but it does the trick just as well as any, and the tiefling survives (ha) this place by being at least a little buzzed, be it from alcohol or weed. ]

I thought myself a hedonist before I got here, but in this place a bit of indulgence is just necessary for damage control.

[ Trauma is a bitch and so are his friends. ]

You're doing a decent ob of it, almost makes me wish I couldn't see colors.

[Since — snake eyes, even if they don't actually function as snake eyes. They see the way he wants them to see, because a body is just a bunch of atoms strung together, holding in his essence. He can't change the look of them more than he already does, but the function is under his control.

More importantly though: wine.

Crowley accepts the bottle with a grin and happily takes a drink straight from it. It's 5 o'clock in some universe, probably.]

I'd have thought that, but it doesn't seem there's a whole lot of room for indulgences around here.

[Which is to say: where'd the wine come from?]

[ Molly happily preens at that, leaning against the bridge railing while talking to this fun guy. (Anyone going along with his bullshit is a fun guy.)

Crowley takes a swig of wine and the tiefling shrugs a little bit, leaning his head back to look to the sky with an overdramatic sigh. ]

There was an island all about partying. Drinks, food, music. Actual fucking drugs rather than poison ivy.

[ Don't... don't ask. ]

Then, of course, it comes with a price. It always does. Have a great, fun party? Now a clown box will try to kill you or absolutely fuck with your head by changing your personality, abilities or form. A nice party with some tree people? Wake up in a volcano!

[ Like, having to slave in the bath house was shitty - but at least it had come with actual fucking access to the bath house, and they had just been paying back. Murder just seemed like such an overreaction! ]

Don't freak out if you end up not being you one day. It happens way too often. Just try to enjoy shit when it's available and then try to survive, because it will still mess with you even if you didn't partake - and that's just a fucking waste.

[There's a complaint about having missed the alcohol and music island right on the tip of his tongue before Molly continues with the story. Clown boxes and tree people make zero sense without context, but he can understand what Molly is getting at.

Crowley's expression is considerably more somber when he offers the wine back. Seems like Molly could use a drink, too.]

That's not all that different from how I was already living my life. ["Just try to enjoy shit when it's available and then try to survive" is like...... the mood for Crowley's existence.] Not that Hell's got the imagination for more than, you know, the basic torture. Sounds like this place gets creative.

Oh yes, very creative. Just try to keep an eye on your friends and hold shit together and you might only have to break down every now and then.

[ Molly plz.

He accepts the wine back and takes a gulp before it it returned. He needs it, but he also has his ways to get more... and this bullshit crash course into the islands isn't even over yet.

(He'll get back to that Hell thing in a minute.) ]

If that isn't enough, even the 'benevolent' god-things here are assholes. Demands you share stories for the chance of some small comfort, or put you on trials that are still haunting people up to this day.

[ Sigh. ]

Just... go with it. Try to die horribly as little as possible.

[The expression that crosses Crowley's face at the words break down is something skeptical, the look of someone who'd like to claim they've never had a breakdown in their entire life, thank you. Never mind that they were three bottles of Talisker into a good cry about their possibly-dead friend less than a week before.]

That's gods though, isn't it? [This is a rhetorical question. Of course gods are awful. Of course they demand so much for so little. Of course they put people on trial.

It would be easy to say that the worst thing that could happen to him already has. Losing Aziraphale. Falling. What else could this place throw at him that'd be worse?

But he bites his tongue on all that, takes another swig from the returned bottle instead.] Are you usually this blunt about all this trauma business?

[Not that he minds, he's just not used to people talking so openly about... struggling, he supposes. Usually they prefer not to discuss things like break downs and being haunted. He can relate, naturally, but it's just strange that Molly is so open about it.]

[ Well. That makes Molly shut his mouth with a click of fangs. Why was he unloading on this guy? he didn't even lie, and he loves making up bullshit stories.

He blinks slightly, and then rubs his face. ]

I don't fucking know. Apparently opening my mouth about it made it all fall out.

text ; 8/10

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ac....tion... almost, sort of, it's about to be

now it is!

we did it

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