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[demonicmiracle]

Hey, it's Anthony Crowley. You know what to do, do it with style.

Comments

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[undiagnosed]

can i tase you?
it's for science

[demonicmiracle]

You can't really think I'd say yes to that.
Who gave you a taser?

[undiagnosed]

it's in my TACTLECAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE
i got it back somehow!!!

[demonicmiracle]

And what is that, then, some spy gadget nonsense?

[He thinks that's so fucking cool but will not admit that to Archer.]

[undiagnosed]

yes it synchs to my brain waves and shoots people also
side note
can i beanbag you
important distinction from teabag

[demonicmiracle]

No, you can't beanbag me or tase me or shoot me.
Why not try it on a local? Pretend it was an accident and they'll likely forgive you

[undiagnosed]

I wasn't going to tell you this but there's a slight chance the taser would stop your heart

Okay
Amendment to my last question,
Do you want to come and get drunk and laugh at whoever I manage to shoot in the balls with this beanbag?

[demonicmiracle]

Then absolutely not. My husband would kill us both.

I'll say yes to watching you beanbag someone else, though, sure. Now?

[undiagnosed]

Pussy
When else?

[demonicmiracle]

Can you wait half an hour? I do have a life outside of you.

[undiagnosed]

Bullshit, no one does

[undiagnosed]

Also, unrelated, yes

> action

[demonicmiracle]

I'll bring wine.

[It ends up being about forty minutes before he turns up to Archer's, apparently having taken a cab (that way he can all Aziraphale to come pick him up if he gets too drunk) and with a mid range bottle of wine in hand.

Because he's a decent guest.]

1/2

[undiagnosed]

[archer looks pretty happy to see crowley! he's not good at and doesn't really like making new friends, but crowley has really slotted into his tiny little circle. he's also not blindingly drunk for once, which says enough for how he finds the demon's company.

he reaches out to take the bottle of wine with a pleased hum.]

Wow. Not bad.

Re: > action

[undiagnosed]

[he turns the bottle over like he's reading the label, moving aside to let crowley in. normal stuff!

only the moment he moves he abruptly lifts his cane and shoots a beanbag out the end of it, right at crowley's midsection.

belatedly:] Head's up!

[demonicmiracle]

[In hindsight, he should have seen this coming.

Not that he's thinking much beyond ouch, as he goes down to his knees with a wheezing sort of groan, thoroughly distracted by a wave of pain and nausea. There's a flicker of something in the air behind him, a dark shadow visible before he pulls it back in, operating on instinct to keep his wings safe.]

You prick.

[The words are gasped out, he'll need a second to properly catch his breath.]

[undiagnosed]

[archer laughs, because archer is an asshole, though he's momentarily distracted by the shadow. he thinks, for a moment, someone had followed crowley.

that said, he does offer an arm to help him stand up properly again.]

How did you not see that coming? Seriously?

[demonicmiracle]

[Briefly, he considers punching Archer in the dick, but that would be a short-lived revenge, and any further action would be considered escalation.

Best to bide his time.

He takes the offered hand instead, wheezing a little as he hauls himself to his feet, his free hand curled protectively around his stomach.]

Didn't think you'd be stupid enough, honestly.

[undiagnosed]

You should always assume that! [he barks with a laugh, pushing crowley towards the kitchen.] God, you only bought one bottle?

[demonicmiracle]

Yeah, I'll remember that for next time.

[He's not exactly steady on his feet - he's used to pain, but being winded is a new and unpleasant experience - but he let's Archer push him about, rolling his eyes at the question.]

A bottle of wine is perfectly acceptable, not my fault you're an alcoholic.

[Well.]

[undiagnosed]

Oh, like you're not. [everyone he knows is some degree of alcoholic, so this is not news to him.] It's fine, I have mixers.

[demonicmiracle]

Might be, but my tolerance has gone down a bit since I got here.

[More like "a lot", but he isn't about to admit he used to drink three bottles of wine just to get faintly tipsy.]

[undiagnosed]

[archer doesn't even have the biology that crowley usually has and he needs more than that. that's a lifetime of emotional dependence on drinking.]

Really? Mine's gone up. Everything is weak here. [probably because he can't get the good shit on the money he's pulling in and this entire town is... puritan compared to new york.] Maybe it's the mountain air.

[demonicmiracle]

That's 'cause you're broke.

[He just assumes that's the case, and that Archer has been buying cheap shit purely to get drunk. Now that his own tolerance has significantly dropped, Crowley finds himself more inclined to buy higher quality, since he's only having a glass or two.

Also, he can afford it, because he has a good job, unlike some people.]

Anyway, think I might just be getting old. Awful as that is.

[undiagnosed]

No, I'm... not. [yes, he is, and crowley has the read on him.] Yeah, you do look pretty awful.

[he takes a couple glasses out the cabinet, pouring a big one for himself then leaves the wine bottle on the edge for crowley to see to himself.]

Ultimate goal... [archer swirls the wine.] Tase the mayor.