driftfleet

Who: Crowley and OPEN
Broadcast: Fleet-wide; video
Action: Planet and Pathstone
When: 22nd

ACTION;

[Those visiting the planet today might notice Crowley happily helping himself to the free alcohol on offer. He doesn't get involved in the festivities1 instead just grabbing crates upon crates of booze, happily taking them towards the waiting Pathstone. Occasionally, he will stop to get himself some terrible food, or watch people wandering by.

Those aboard the Pathstone will have the delights of Crowley trying to get his crates into various nooks and crannies of his communications station. He still avoids the cargo hold, just in case Tek has stored more dead bodies down there.

Eventually, he notices his captain's bunk is missing, which he cannot allow. The nice bed is the one and only decent thing about the crappy job that has been thrust upon him.]

Who the sodding hell has nicked my bed?!!

NETWORK;

[Crowley finally deigns to post to the network himself from his comms station, occasionaly flicking switches to listen to random BEE-BOP noises. Why? He has his reasons. Reasons that may or may not involve an attempt to put annoying flash games on the system at some point in the future.]

'Lo people, Crowley here, unfortunate Captain of the SS Dysfunction. Sorry, Pathstone. Wondering if anyone else got one of these.

[He holds the weird red stone one of the happy inhabitants had given him.]

Because I don't know about you, but I've gained a healthy distrust of possibly magical objects, and I'd like to know if one of these had blown up on anyone, or turned someone into a slug or something. [A considerate pause.] No one's started worshipping them, have they? Because that doesn't end well.

1.- Even in space, he could only dance like all demons from his world could dance. Which is to say the sort of dancing he wasn't evil enough to inflict on other people's retinas.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[he's probably on the ship, locked in his office with said stolen cot, but he's answering over the network. because he's a lazy ass.]

Someone stole your bed? That's terrible.

[Oh my god Tek, WHY?]

Yes, the bed which I need to sleep on.

[because he wants to be comfortable. duh.]

Did they steal the whole bunkbed, or just one of the mattresses?

Because if there are others there, I'm sure no one would mind if you slept on one of them. We have several completely unused ones, after all.

[Normally he might say some sarcastic remark, but honestly, he has a history with magical stones and it's a pretty bad one. So-]

I got one, but I haven't noticed anything weird about them so far.

[ This ship is now like 50% alcohol. ]

Will it even be able to get off the ground like this?

I want my one.

[Stomping about the place.]

So, Mr. Trustworthy person, do you know where it is?

['Cause trust 'em. But oh hey, Crowley remembers you.]

So far. There's probably still time.

[That's exactly the right percentage of alcohol.]

Of course it can.

...Probably.

I mean, we'll learn when we try.

[lalala just hiding in the room that he got along with his augment--the one with his name on the door. it's locked with some mechanism, but that's probably no problem for a demon]

Oh, surely you can't mean the captain's cot?

I thought you were done with that title.

[And he meanwhile has no idea who you are! Hooray.]

Oh yeah. Maybe they'll ignite the moment we try to leave the atmosphere.

...please try not to become ill from drinking too much.

[ The sickbay is not for anyone!!!!! ]

Not possible. I can heal myself from any damage.

[Fun times all round.]

I don't know a lot about space, but I have a feeling that would be bad.

Unless someone else is willing to do the paperwork and take over, then it appears I'm stuck with it.

[There's a tap on the door, and the mechanism just ceases to work. Because Crowley wanted it to. Reality benders.]

If I find it in here, I'll be very upset. I happen to find my sleep pattern a very sacred thing.

Oh yeah! We'd probably all die.

That makes two of us... [he mumbles into the pillows as the door makes a disheartening click. damn.

and boy does he look comfy. not only has he stolen the cot, he's also tipped the desk over beside it to form the other side of a sort of makeshift nest, which he has filled with every spare blanket and pillow from all the unused beds. the whole thing is an expertly-crafted pit of linens; the cot is hardly visible beneath it. it's a little unconventional, but this is now probably the most comfortable place in the entire fleet.

with most of his face buried down in the pillow, he barely cracks an eye open to peer toward the door when it opens.]

...Don't let in the cold air.

Does alcohol even affect you?

Don't swallow it.

[She trails after him while he hauls crates of booze, not even remotely planning to help.]

[ Well, speaking of people wandering by...there is this one guy who's kinda stuck in his bedclothes and all that, but he's trying not to look too conspicuous about it. "Trying." The urge to cover himself and hide is strong every time someone snickers or laughs, even if it isn't directed at him.

But he needs a change of clothes damnit and if that means walking around on an alien planet barefoot in his jammies, he is darn-well going to do it. ]

[This is...different. Crowley pauses, one eyebrow raising over his shades.]

Are you doing some sort of bet?

[He turns his head to peer over his shoulder as he walks, a smile crossing his features.]

But then I couldn't enjoy it half as much, Del.

Oh, most definitely. I wouldn't drink if it didn't.

[The hell is this even, Tek. Crowley squints behind his shades, leaning his head forward to take in the construct.]

...Have you made a...a nest out of my bed?

Well, those of us who can would.

Are you saying you can't, or that you plan to live through a fiery inferno out of spite?

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