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1 [Voice]
[Crowley has been on the ship for hours.
The whole business was rather unpleasant, as is being branded like some kind of animal, but all in all, the demon is rather unruffled. Transport into another universe was something of another day's work, though it was an alarming coincidence that it occurred so closely to his greatest victory. Was this his punishment for his involvement with defeating the Leviathan?
Unlikely, the demon decides, and so he goes about his business.
First, it is a matter of discovering his locker, of removing his things, and of disappearing. He has little interest in socializing immediately and, as a result, Crowley vanishes into the shadows to dwell and think -- and, most importantly, learn. Within the hour, Crowley has all he needs to know at his fingertips, and with a flick of his fingers, his comm turns on to broadcast his soft accented English to the Tranquility.]
I'm afraid I require a bit of explanation as to why, exactly, someone thought it would be humorous to shove a Hellhound into a test tube.
[There's an artful pause.]
And also the location of the nearest groomer. This filth is absolutely disgusting.
[There's another three second pause before his own transmission ends.
Let's see who decides to come forward with information about why he, the demon King, is here.]
The whole business was rather unpleasant, as is being branded like some kind of animal, but all in all, the demon is rather unruffled. Transport into another universe was something of another day's work, though it was an alarming coincidence that it occurred so closely to his greatest victory. Was this his punishment for his involvement with defeating the Leviathan?
Unlikely, the demon decides, and so he goes about his business.
First, it is a matter of discovering his locker, of removing his things, and of disappearing. He has little interest in socializing immediately and, as a result, Crowley vanishes into the shadows to dwell and think -- and, most importantly, learn. Within the hour, Crowley has all he needs to know at his fingertips, and with a flick of his fingers, his comm turns on to broadcast his soft accented English to the Tranquility.]
I'm afraid I require a bit of explanation as to why, exactly, someone thought it would be humorous to shove a Hellhound into a test tube.
[There's an artful pause.]
And also the location of the nearest groomer. This filth is absolutely disgusting.
[There's another three second pause before his own transmission ends.
Let's see who decides to come forward with information about why he, the demon King, is here.]
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[ her counterpart already took care of the complaint comment, just making it worse because she can. ]
I'd offer, but I'm regrettably not exactly an expert on dog grooming. I can typically trust mine to clean up their own messes.
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[As it is, Growley barely fits into his bathtub, and she's sort of hanging over the side.]
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[ There's this faint edge of amusement to her voice, like this is truly one of the more entertaining things she's been able to enjoy lately which, admittedly, it totally is. ]
The ship wasn't exactly built with the special needs of hellhounds in mind. Or any sort of animal. I'm not entirely sure how Jaye, who yes, I know everyone has already mentioned that name, but she shoves a cow into those tubes and cleans it afterward and it's yet to be something that actually makes sense.
[ Oh, right. ] You certainly are enjoying a warm welcome though, mocking of your lack of groomer problems notwithstanding.
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What.]
Would you consider this a warm welcome?
[Because all he's seen so far is people making assumptions, being irritating, and Dean Winchester.]
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Sarcasm, Crowley. Though, no one's tried to shoot at you yet so it's warmer than it looks like it could have been. I'd put it around at least a room temperature welcome.
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[Crowley sighs heavily. This is all very much unnecessary.]
I need a drink.
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[ That earns a laugh because of course, doesn't everyone need a drink on this ship. ]
If you don't mind the potential for your drink not to taste as good as it might have on Earth, the plethora of alcoholics on the ship can tell you that there's typically some in the kitchens. Provided the more desperate ones haven't already tried to pick the best offerings from your floor.
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How poor in quality are we talking?
[Crowley so doesn't drink anything less than something that goes for $500 a bottle he is going to be miserable forever.]
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The plethora of alcoholics on this ship aren't exactly the types who care for how expensive it is, or how good it tastes because it's actually expensive. Guess.
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