driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: IT'S A GAME MINGLE GET IN THE VAN
Broadcast: If you want!
Action: All of it!
When: Second half of the month.

[hey everyone! how's it been going? how's medieval-fun-time-world treating you? anyone pillaged and burned anything yet? got kicked out of the castle? been planning expeditions? registered for jousting? busy angsting for the last two weeks on your ship?

this is a mingle for everybody, whether they're hiding in the volcano, out and about in the city, or up on one of those random random stations where you can get quirky souvenirs.]

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Because I made it so it couldn't be picked up.

You... did? But why? [He shifts his load a little. It's heavy, now that he's not actively moving.]

Because I wanted to watch people fail to pick it up.

Demon thing. Sometimes, I do my job a little, despite retirement.

Hm. [Finally resigning himself to a conversation, Komaeda begins to set down the things in his arms.] You enjoy watching people struggle and suffer, then?

... I don't really get it. What kind of demon are you? Which hell do you live in?

On occasion. The healthy sort.

I don't live in Hell, I live in London.

... Healthy suffering? [Komaeda looks a little lost, and a lot skeptical.] How do you tell what's healthy and what's not? [Finally everything is neatly stacked, and he sits himself next to Crowley on the terrace, coin still held in his hand.]

Oh, so you're a Western demon? How interesting.

Because I've been doing it for a long time.

...Yes, if you like.

How long? Hundreds of years, or something like that, right? [If he plays the game like he knows how to, this 'demon' will start on a long monologue of his conquests and victories, right? To be honest, Komaeda is a little worn out from such a busy day, and he'd welcome being the audience to somebody else's monologue.]

Oh, what does that mean? [He wiggles the coin between his fingers, trying to roll it across his knuckles. It doesn't go very far- he drops it, catches it again, and smiles.] It's my super-duper luck, if you're really that bothered.

Try six thousand. [Nope. No monologue here. ]

...So, what? You're supernaturally lucky? Is that it?

[Komaeda seems a little disappointed by his lack of storytime, but he shrugs it off.] Well, your sense of modern tailoring techniques is admirable.

... Uh, I guess so, though I don't know about the term "lucky," in particular.... More like, ah, how should I put it..... [He seems a little uncomfortable talking about the topic, though he doesn't try to wiggle out of it.]

Thank you, I do try to keep on the pulse of life and so on.

Oh, please do continue. I'm all ears.

[Brb, Komaeda has signaled a serving girl and is placing an order for lunch. Or, it might be lunch? If it is, man, he eats like a ballerina bird.] Since I ruined your trick, would you like anything to eat or drink? My treat.

[Does Crowley get distracted by bribes? Let's see if he does.]

I don't know, ifs there anything else added to this offer of a drink?

[Komaeda blinks. It's a pretty okay blink, as blinks go, but it's definitely the blink of somebody who has no idea how to take that question.]

I mean, I'm not really in a position to poison you....?

NO, what more do you expect, exactly?

Haha, if you don't want anything, that's all right too. [He tosses Crowley a questioning look. He's clearly missing something, but hell if he knows what.]

That's not exactly waylaying my concerns.

I don't know what you mean, really. Do you want something or not? [Chewing on his lip, he fiddles with the coin he picked up.] Like I said, I won't take any offense if you decline, especially since you've been here a while. I'll just assume you ate already or something.

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