demonicmiracle | (wsh) ic inbox

[That sounds far more like Ray, enough to slightly unravel the knot that had settled into Crowley's stomach. Not permanent, then, whatever the hell it was. That leaves more questions, but at least he doesn't have to write off his only friend in this shitty town.]

It's fine, you weren't all that bad
But if you're feeling more like yourself again then you're welcome to visit

Sure, I'll be by.
And I appreciate it, I do. Really could stand to get out of the house for a while. Not to mention my own head.
You know I didn't drink for about a week and I still woke up this morning with a raging bitch of a hangover.

[ He very nearly leaves it at that -- he's hardly in any hurry to talk about what happened, there is no doubt a lot to unpack even from just their brief chat -- but as Ray is getting ready to leave the house, he decides to add: ]

I know it's a tough subject for you what with your whole cult upbringing and all, so I'm sorry. And believe me, I get it.
Feels like I was possessed by some kind of angry ghost of Christmases That Could Have Been.

Side effects of a little brainwashing, I suppose.

[Is it unkind to say it so plainly? Crowley isn't entirely sure, and who knows, maybe he's wrong, but from the outside that's certainly what it looked like. At least it was only that, not that Ray had been replaced by a Stepford robot.]

What could have been if you weren't a flaming homosexual, hm?
Anyway, it's alright, no need to apologise. It wasn't you, and it was sort of funny, actually. Been a while since anyone's prosthelyized at me.

Well, you'd have to tell me. Was I straight yesterday, or just delusional?

[ He can guess. It wouldn't be his first time on the "pray the gay away" wagon, although he doesn't want to think about that now. Just being here already stirs up vaguely complicated feelings for him, and well, this hardly helps. ]

I mean that would help explain a phone call I remember having with Archer, but... brainwashing? Really?

Shit. I knew they must be dosing those damn jello-molds.

Hard to tell, honestly. I wasn't about to spend an hour there delving into your psyche. No offense.

[A better person might have tried to figure out what was wrong, tried to help, but Crowley isn't quite that person.]

Not sure what else it would be.

But you've been eating those damn things? You ought to know better.

Fair enough. I can be pretty convincing when I wanna be.

[ No, not really.

Also, it isn't that he doesn't agree that Crowley is probably right about this brainwashing thing, but it's a little too disturbing for Ray to be ready to talk about yet. Setting aside the upbringing and whole spy thing, it's still... mostly a first for him? So, for now he's just focusing on the simpler facts. ]

Listen, don't you judge me. I get hungry when I'm under a lot of stress, why do you think I've been baking??
And I can't be the only one. Those things actually aren't half bad you know.

They're bloody awful and you know it. Stick to food you've made yourself from now on, though I suppose there's no reason they can't be drugging what's at the grocery stores.

You want me to get a pot of coffee started? I've Irish creme to spike it with.

Oh, sure. They could be drugging anything here, including the coffee, but I think it does us no good to overthink it. Whatever they could be doing to the food, we still gotta eat something.

It would be the easiest way to get us though.
Unless we've all been chipped, that is.

Anyway. That would be heavenly, thank you.
I'm just about to pull up.

Coffee's worth being drugged for, unlike those gelatin monstrosities.

Door's unlocked, feel free to let yourself in, I'll be in the kitchen with the drugged coffee.

[He figures he should probably eat breakfast, or Aziraphale will fuss at him when he gets back from the grocery store, so he's poking through the fridge while waiting for the coffee to brew.]

Oh let's not go down THAT road. The list of things worth being drugged for is pretty long when you actually start to think about it.

[ He takes his time making it up the walkway once he's parked, brownies tucked under arm, then raps lightly on the door once he's opened it just to announce his presence. Ray looks a bit ragged compared to yesterday (though all things considered that's probably a good thing), just paler enough than usual that his eyebags make him look even more hungover than he probably feels. Still, it could be worse. ]

Good morning. [ He holds up the tupperware. ] Now where should I put these?

[ If they stay anywhere within his reach he can't promise they'll last long enough for Aziraphale to enjoy anyway, but... ]

Good morning, you look like shit.

[He sort of says it like it's a good thing, though, as he comes over to take the tupperware container, setting it on the kitchen counter.

There's already two mugs of coffee on the little dining table, each with a generous splash of Irish cream, but he's also put out milk and sugar in case Ray wants to doctor his coffee further.]

Take a seat and pick a mug, they're both the same.

[For his part, he's thrown together a bit of a fruit salad, because it turns out that bodies need vitamins and all kinds of ridiculous things, which he brings with him to the table.]

I've been thinking about planting a garden come spring, growing as much of my own food as I can seemed a sensible idea.

[Going back to their brief talk of grocery store food being drugged. It doesn't occur to him that Ray might not realize he's circling back to that; he's used to Aziraphale being able to follow his weird trains of thought.]

Oh blow me.

[ He's certainly not as chipper as yesterday either! Imagine that. Ray sits with a bit of a grunt, crossing his legs and gratefully taking a deep drink from one of the waiting coffee cups. ]

Ugh, that's magical. [ He kneads at his temple and adds a couple generous spoonfuls of sugar to his cup. ] But I wouldn't have pegged you for the farmin' type. Or gardening even, for that matter. It's not a bad idea.

[ Ray tops his coffee up a bit and drinks again. ]

You're thinkin' like a vegetable garden?

In your dreams.

[This is definitely Ray again, which fills Crowley with a sense of relief for a handful of reasons, mostly because it means whatever happened to him isn't permanent, so if it happens to anyone else, they'll get over it.

Hopefully.]

I've got a whole room dedicated to my plants back in London. All indoor, mind, but I've had gardens before. [He's never had to grow one without his powers, but he knows the basics and can likely find a few books that'll help.] But — yup. Vegetables, maybe a couple of fruit trees if I can find 'em. Herbs, too. I'd think about chickens if we had the space for it, but m'not sure I'd be able to wrangle them.

[His experiences with animals are limited and mostly negative.]

Don't remind me. I have houseplants all over my apartment that are probably all dead by now. [ Though it's happened before after long missions away, too. ] I do like herb gardens, though. Nice to finally have some real space for one that's bigger than a window box.

[ He adds a splash or two more Irish cream to his coffee. ]

Chickens, though... well, that'll be a whole thing, so be ready for it. You gotta build a coop, you gotta set up the chicken wire, gotta keep watch that no predators sneak in and eat 'em, gotta collect the eggs, gotta make sure they don't all kill each other... which believe me, never a pretty sight. [ God he knows too much about this shit. ] Although that bein' said, I would kill for some fried chicken right about now.

Mine know better than to die.

[He says this as if it's a perfectly normal thing to say about plants.

After reluctantly poking at his food, he pops a few pieces of fruit into his mouth, chewing as he listens to Ray. It's been a while since he's had to be around any kind of livestock, and he's not the sort of person who won't defer to someone else's expertise. He can be proud, but he's not stupid.]

I've never had fried chicken. [Just an idle comment, as he thinks.] Probably not worth the effort just yet, are they? If it does turn out they're drugging the damn grocery store food, then I'll think about it. Not sure how Avery'd feel about it all, but it'll hardly kill him.

It's not normally a problem as long as I actually come home every night, but...

[ Difficult at his regular job, it's not really your standard "9-5" gig, but here he might as well collect a few more since he'll no doubt be home quite a bit to take care of them. His Santa Rosita house doesn't need livening up the way his apartment back home did, but so what? It's soothing. Plants are soothing. ]

I dunno, I mean, I wouldn't, though I'm sure Ellie might approve. She's uh, a bit of a hick. [ Pot, kettle, shut up. ] And no offense, but I'm not sure Avery's exactly got the right temperament for raisin' a bunch of smelly, squawkin', feather-tearin' farm birds. Lord knows I hated it.

But the secret agent thing.

[Crowley grins at him from behind his mug of coffee, apparently deciding to be a tiny bit of a shit in retaliation for dealing with Ray's brainwashed nonsense.]

A bit of a hick, I'll tell her you said that. [He won't. He's also not entirely sure Ellie would know take it as an insult, anyway.] Is temperament your way of saying he's too gay for all that business?

[He's enjoying this too much.]

Or maybe I just had an active social life, you don't know!

[ Dryly though (because spoilers: he did not), not denying it even as he cuts his eyes in a glare, because is there even any point in denying it? If he were stuck here for a work thing, maybe, but that clearly is not the case.

He sets his coffee cup down, folding his hand over his knee and clicking his tongue. ]

Oh please, look at who you're talkin' to. It's my way of sayin' chickens are disgusting, and aren't worth ruining your pretty lawn over.

Do you have an active social life?

[They both already know the answer to the question, but he's going to make Ray either answer, or insult him to avoid the answer.

This might have something to do with him reassuring himself that Ray is himself again. But they're not going to address that.]

Could always try quail. Better eating than chickens, though the eggs aren't as big.

I-- [ He inhales irritably, taking another sip of coffee. ] Sometimes! I've just been havin' a bit of dry spell is all, but...

[ Less so here, weirdly. He's made friends in Santa Rosita, more than he's had in a while that aren't just people he sees every day for work.

He gets it, though; Ray'd probably do the same thing if their positions were reversed, but it's difficult to even think about addressing it directly. How do you have that conversation in earnest? There's too many unknowns, and also too much to unpack from the data they do have. ]

I never had quail. [ He looks vaguely put out at that. ] How the Hell would you go about raisin' those?

We talking about your social life or sex life?

[He's the worst, this is why he doesn't have any friends. But it's well-meant teasing, rather than anything actually unkind.]

Think you can keep 'em in a coop, they don't need as much room as chickens, and they're a hell of a lot quieter.

Shut up.

[ Either. Both. Ray glares over the rim of his coffee cup, then reaches to add a little more sugar to it. ]

I've never even heard of quail farming, but it sure sounds a Helluva lot more glamorous than bringin' up chickens, anyway... having chickens but no farm is pretty textbook white trash where I come from.

[ He wrinkles his nose uncomfortably. ]

Guess we'll see what happens, but I'm still hopin' it won't come to all that.

Edited 2020-12-26 17:38 (UTC)

[Crowley wrinkles his nose at him playfully, knowing that he's hit his mark but not feeling particularly like rubbing salt in the wound.]

The Egyptians used to have loads of quail farms, the damn things had their own hieroglyph and everything.

[Random historical facts with Crowley. His knowledge is very hodge podge, because there's a lot shoved in there, but sometimes things are vaguely relevant or useful.]

Well, they've gone from trying to kill us to brainwashing us. Not sure which is worse, really.

Oh, well if the Egyptians did it...

[ Ray rolls his eyes melodramatically, though with a bit of a smirk. He hates to imagine their lives here will be reduced to actual farming, but if they are... well, he does know what to do at least, mostly, even if he hates to do it. ]

Hard to say. I am pretty used to things tryin' to kill me by now, although that doesn't mean I enjoy it, but the brainwashing wasn't even all that bad either, except for, well... [ He cocks his head meaningfully. ] And I don't think that was even the worst part.

[ If he remembers correctly trying to flirt with Archer. Ray shudders mildly, hand at his heart. ]

I don't know. Maybe it was just a fluke?

[People wanting Crowley dead also isn't particularly interesting; he figures most of the Dukes would have his guts for garters the second he steps out of line, although it's usually humans that are actively trying to kill him.

Hasn't happened for a while, at least.

Really do not want to know what the worst part was.

[There are so many things it could be. His first thought was that he tried something with Ellie, but Ray likely wouldn't be alive, had that been the case.]

Seems unlikely it was a fluke, m'not dismissing anything that happens here as a coincidence. [A beat, as something occurs to him.] Speaking of, did you get a Christmas present from some mysterious source?

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