John Constantine (
talentforlying) wrote2017-03-17 08:51 am
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-5 MCA, Friday Afternoon/Evening
John had gotten the surprise of his fucking life this morning. In a good way, that was, and while it had taken a few moments for him to wake up enough to realize what, exactly, was coming out of his shower-head, he had figured it out eventually.
A call and a bribe to get a same-day delivery of a few giant bottles of Culligan and a water cooler from the mainland, a trip over the Causeway to the YMCA for a godsdamned shower with water and a shopping trip for the appropriate accouterments...
It was getting on towards dinner time by the time once he was back and had everything he needed. The door to his flat was propped open, text messages reading my fucking taps are running absinthe come fucking help me enjoy it, music on and food available.
Fuck yeah Constantine was indulging. And no, he wasn't lighting his sugar cubes on fire, that shit was for showy amateurs.
[OOC: Open post! If you think you got a text, you did, or feel free to stumble over Constantine's Bad Choices.]
A call and a bribe to get a same-day delivery of a few giant bottles of Culligan and a water cooler from the mainland, a trip over the Causeway to the YMCA for a godsdamned shower with water and a shopping trip for the appropriate accouterments...
It was getting on towards dinner time by the time once he was back and had everything he needed. The door to his flat was propped open, text messages reading my fucking taps are running absinthe come fucking help me enjoy it, music on and food available.
Fuck yeah Constantine was indulging. And no, he wasn't lighting his sugar cubes on fire, that shit was for showy amateurs.
[OOC: Open post! If you think you got a text, you did, or feel free to stumble over Constantine's Bad Choices.]
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This made no sense on any scientific level. Verity was going to finish her drink just to stop thinking about it.
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And humans, but Kanan was well on his way to drunk, as he'd said, and even while sober he had to harp on the potato thing whenever possible.
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He had one such furry dog. It... wasn't really a typical Earth furry dog anyway.
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Still not the weirdest conversation she'd ever had, but up there.
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A pause.
"Ours taste better."
Not that he was at all biased.
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So, basically.
"The basic ingredients are probably different," he added, "but for the most part, absinthe is one of the first drinks around here I've never heard of before."
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He was thinking about this too hard.
"Now next time I go back there I'm going to have to ask around and see if anybody knows about France."
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Not that that had stopped him from coming back here after that whole thing on Gorse. But he was going to maintain that he'd come back entirely because he needed to get his dog.
Yeah.
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"When a cryptozoologist and a spaceman agree a place is weird, then there's just no hope for it," she declared, getting herself another tall glass of absinthe.
Because that was exactly what she needed, yes.
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By the time he'd circled around that far, he'd forgotten what it is he was going to protest, so he just shrugged, raised his glass, and said, "I'll drink to that."
To whatever it was. Good job, Kanan.