demonicmiracle | (wsh) ic inbox

They'd also probably lose their minds if you gave then a single dorito, so you know, whatever.

[it's not time travel. they haven't fucking time traveled. that's literally impossible and not something archer would imagine could happen outside of his coma dreaming.]

Already have. [he makes a face.] We actually have about one leg between us, so, y'know.

[this is... actually kind of a show of trust, in archer's own way.]

[It genuinely takes him a second to recall what a dorito is. Most of his understanding of food is based on what Aziraphale eats, and angels don't eat doritos.]

That was the first thing you thought of?

[He's like, impressed by the way Archer's mind must work. Truly fascinating. Hell should study him.]

You're rather spry for a bloke with less than one leg.

[He can see the gesture for what it is, which is why he's being somewhat more gentle about his curiosity. There's an opening there for Archer to explain, or he can brush it off with a joke. As much as Crowley would like to know, it doesn't serve any purpose right now, so he can let it go if he has to.]

Yes?

[archer leans back with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. it his trust for crowley comes from the similar personality read and how he's been so far-- ironic that he'd trust a demon, right? not that archer knows crowley's true nature.

maybe he just kind of needs someone to talk to about all this, too. probably not that. hopefully not that.]

I got shot three times in the stomach and drowned. Coma for three years. Kinda stupid, because I've been shot way more than that and none of the others put me in a coma, but whatever.

[Well, this is a thing that's happening.

Crowley isn't incapable of feigning sympathy, he's had to do jobs for Aziraphale as part of the Arrangement often enough that he's learned how to come across as nice and kind and comforting, should he have to. Somehow, he doesn't think that's what Archer particularly wants.]

It'd be the drowning that did it, awful business, that. [Speaking from experience.] Your luck is a bit shite, isn't it?

[as usual, snake boy is dead on.]

Sucked all three times. [jesus, he's really drowned that many times? archer doesn't even know he has one more in his future.] But anyway, what kind of a total pussy would I be if I died just because of that? A huge one.

[he drains his drink, signaling for another.]

Anyway, Ray's is worse. Have you seen him? Seriously.

[How is Archer still alive? Questions that will haunt Crowley.]

I wasn't aware that dying in a particular way made you a pussy.

[Just to be a shit, he mimics Archer's accent on the word, since it's so awfully American.]

Mm, well, you're entitled to your opinion.

[Neither agreeing nor disagreeing, because he thinks that's what will annoy Archer the most.

#friendship]

Dying at all makes you a pussy. I guess... unless it's old age...

[oof ouchie his heart clenches briefly at that. woodhouse...]

It-- Crowley? It is. Believe me. It is.

I'd have thought you'd be the type to want to go out in a blaze of glory.

[From what he's observed so far, Archer has the ego and self-destructive streak to be exactly that sort of man.]

Half that bad luck wouldn't be your fault, would it?

[Just saying.]

[he doesn't answer that; archer's relationship with his mortality and how much he gives a shit about it is far too complicated.]

Heh. He said it was all my fault, huh? Yeah, they sure do like blaming things on me.

[because most of the time they are his fault]

[The lack of answer says plenty, really.]

Nah, was a lucky guess, you just seem the sort to make everyone else's life difficult.

[Harsh but perhaps fair, since Crowley is... also that sort of person, though with more intent. It's part of being a demon.]

Ha, [he barks, humourlessly before he takes another couple deep drinks when it's delivered. as much as archer likes to pretend everything flows off him like water off a duck, he does sometimes find his thoughts floating back to everyone outright saying they were happier when he was in his coma.] more like more awesome. Those idiots wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for me.

[He wonders if he's struck a nerve, but doesn't particularly care either way if he did.]

I'm sure they're terribly appreciative of your efforts.

[Just — very dry, there.]

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