[archer is already there, when crowley arrives, quite clearly already a few drinks deep. how he did that so quickly is anyone's guess, but-- whatever, mood, right?
crowley will have to ask where archer is; he doesn't bother to greet the ex-demon himself.]
[He doesn't bother gracing Archer with a reply, because he doesn't deserve one. He just shows up roughly twenty minutes later, ordering himself a Boulevardier and asks after Archer.
Once the drink is ready, he finds his way to the table Archer's at, sliding unceremoniously into the seat across from him.]
Ugh. They seriously let you in dressed like that? [he sneers, taking a long drink. archer is, as usual, doing pretty alright despite everything that's happened - being stabbed comes to mind.] Guess this place has shitter standards than I thought.
Haven't been looking, really. Working a nine to five job and dealing with — shopping and cooking and all that shite doesn't leave much free time.
[Also, honestly, now that he doesn't need the excuse of a bar or restaurant to spend time around Aziraphale, he's much happier at home, watching shitty TV while the angel reads.
He isn't going to tell Archer about that, though.]
[archer, like it isn't immediately obvious the second he opens his mouth to anyone, anywhere, is quite deeply lonely and unhappy, so he wouldn't ever guess that, even if given six thousand years.]
[Thank someone Crowley is used to having to pretend like he isn't half as fond of Aziraphale as he is. It makes it easier to shrug rather than get defensive.]
He helps, but he's a bit more focused on figuring out what's going on here than dealing with day to day bullshit.
[his grin widens a little at genuinely getting under crowley's skin.]
What do you think? [he opens his mouth to say something else, probably something derogatory, but stops when one of the waitresses saunters past, looking away with a wince. okay. they're creepy as hell. don't want to get that attention.] So, hey, serious question. You guys got anyone looking for you?
[It's a near thing, but he manages to resist sticking his tongue out at Archer, mostly because that's a little too childish.
He does laugh at the question, though, even if there's no amusement in it.]
That's putting it mildly. My people are going to be real unhappy I'm not where I ought to be, and m'sure my boss is looking forward to finding me just to rake me over the coals for it.
[the glass he's holding creaks a little in protest as archer's grip on it tightens, but he doesn't show any other signs of irritation than slightly squared shoulders.]
Right, you know Ray. I forgot. He does love his gossip...
[While he may not have any demonic cheats to know what people are thinking, Crowley's always been good at just watching when he has to, so Archer's reaction is noted and filed away.
But he's not in the mood to actually start a fight or anything, so he waves a hand lazily through the air as if dismissing it all.]°
You can hardly blame him, you're the one that told me you work together. Think he'd have preferred to keep the secret agent thing to himself.
[Crowley gives Archer a look that suggests he's not sure whether he's being lied to, because like.... humans are usually fairly understandably upset about being shot???]
Depends on if you believe we're in an actual town in actual California.
[Which he does not!]
And if the locals are actually, you know, capable of noticing that sort of thing.
Who am I, Thomas Hubbard Sumner, inventor of celestial navigation?
[he's been in california, but was mostly centred in and around LA with occasional romps into the surrounding country. never up into the direction where santa rosita is supposed to be.]
They probably know, I mean, isn't this the perfect set up for a cult?
[That is a fascinating — if slightly inaccurate — reference, but Crowley doesn't care enough to correct him. He also doesn't care enough to confirm that he actually did check their location by celestial navigation and found they are roughly where they've been told they are. That doesn't mean it's real.]
Doesn't feel like a cult, the locals aren't scared enough.
[He has... an unfortunate amount of experience with cults, because Hell is almost always fond of them.]
And they're all too good at pretending, none of 'em have slipped up for even a second, that's hard to buy.
...True. [he admits that like it's hard-- which it is, in a way. crowley has the better point than him. annoying.] What do you reckon then, Thomas Magnum?
[Crowley considers that question for a moment, regarding his drink while he decides how honest to be.
Archer has already seen him attempt to use blood magic, so he can't exactly pretend he's normal. And also, no one will believe Archer if he tries to spread rumors.]
For my money, it's some kind of pocket dimension. I've got a... vague understanding of the theory, but not the application.
[He figures they're presently outside time, which is something he could do, if only for a short time, but he's never tried it before, doesn't know what it would look like.]
What I do know is we should be terrified of whatever has enough power to do this.
[he has, but archer waved october off as just a fever dream. he doesn't remember november in the town and-- if he's being honest with himself (which he rarely is) then his relationship with reality has been... not great since he woke up.
Sorry, weren't you just telling me you'd been to space?
[Like that is equally as far fetched as pocket dimensions, because as far as Crowley knows, random people don't just go up to space, and there's no way any government program let Archer be an astronaut.]
Anyway, isn't about plausibility, it's about what makes sense with how this place is and what it's done to us.
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See you in 20?
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[archer is already there, when crowley arrives, quite clearly already a few drinks deep. how he did that so quickly is anyone's guess, but-- whatever, mood, right?
crowley will have to ask where archer is; he doesn't bother to greet the ex-demon himself.]
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Once the drink is ready, he finds his way to the table Archer's at, sliding unceremoniously into the seat across from him.]
You don't look too worse for wear.
[After his walk home. The poor dear.]
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[it's half-hearted bitching at best.]
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Well, they've not kicked you out yet, figure their standards should be obvious.
[Archer is obviously the worst out of the two of them.]
Is this really the only place to drink in this shithole?
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That I've found. I'm usually more on the ball with this kind of thing. Surprised you haven't had better luck, actually.
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[Also, honestly, now that he doesn't need the excuse of a bar or restaurant to spend time around Aziraphale, he's much happier at home, watching shitty TV while the angel reads.
He isn't going to tell Archer about that, though.]
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Jesus. Your husband sounds useless.
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He helps, but he's a bit more focused on figuring out what's going on here than dealing with day to day bullshit.
[Aziraphale is the clever one.]
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[Just a tiny bit challenging, since it seems like Archer has mostly just spent the past couple weeks drunk and being belligerent.]
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What do you think? [he opens his mouth to say something else, probably something derogatory, but stops when one of the waitresses saunters past, looking away with a wince. okay. they're creepy as hell. don't want to get that attention.] So, hey, serious question. You guys got anyone looking for you?
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He does laugh at the question, though, even if there's no amusement in it.]
That's putting it mildly. My people are going to be real unhappy I'm not where I ought to be, and m'sure my boss is looking forward to finding me just to rake me over the coals for it.
[Literally!!]
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No shit, right? Mother-- uh, I mean, my boss is probably... hiring some spec ops to find me and Ray or... something.
[...] My boss.
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[This is his revenge for Archer being mean about Aziraphale and he is very pleased about it.]
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Right, you know Ray. I forgot. He does love his gossip...
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But he's not in the mood to actually start a fight or anything, so he waves a hand lazily through the air as if dismissing it all.]°
You can hardly blame him, you're the one that told me you work together. Think he'd have preferred to keep the secret agent thing to himself.
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[he huffs, but evidently either doesn't have the drive or the energy or both to start something either.]
Either way, my point-- my point is that there's a bunch of new people here that aren't exactly going to go unnoticed, right?
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Depends on if you believe we're in an actual town in actual California.
[Which he does not!]
And if the locals are actually, you know, capable of noticing that sort of thing.
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[he's been in california, but was mostly centred in and around LA with occasional romps into the surrounding country. never up into the direction where santa rosita is supposed to be.]
They probably know, I mean, isn't this the perfect set up for a cult?
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Doesn't feel like a cult, the locals aren't scared enough.
[He has... an unfortunate amount of experience with cults, because Hell is almost always fond of them.]
And they're all too good at pretending, none of 'em have slipped up for even a second, that's hard to buy.
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Archer has already seen him attempt to use blood magic, so he can't exactly pretend he's normal. And also, no one will believe Archer if he tries to spread rumors.]
For my money, it's some kind of pocket dimension. I've got a... vague understanding of the theory, but not the application.
[He figures they're presently outside time, which is something he could do, if only for a short time, but he's never tried it before, doesn't know what it would look like.]
What I do know is we should be terrified of whatever has enough power to do this.
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if he even did.
but that's a problem for another day.]
Because that's more plausible than a cult!
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[Like that is equally as far fetched as pocket dimensions, because as far as Crowley knows, random people don't just go up to space, and there's no way any government program let Archer be an astronaut.]
Anyway, isn't about plausibility, it's about what makes sense with how this place is and what it's done to us.
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