Anthony J. Crowley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
agathokakological) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lifeaftr2020-02-03 06:24 pm
agathokakological) wrote in lifeaftr2020-02-03 06:24 pm
Closed
Who: Aziraphale, Crowley, and Kravitz
What: Shots
When: Early Feb.
Where: Denny
Warnings: Alcohol
Another month on this island, this one perhaps the hardest yet. Crowley was well-stressed, and had gotten quite creative when it came to entertaining himself recently in the wake of nearly watching his best friend succumb to a deathly infection of flowers of all things. Still, he yearned for something normal, or however close one could come to such a word in this dreaded place. For Crowley, that meant alcohol.
On his way to Denny, he stopped in the library where he was sure to find Aziraphale working alongside Kravitz on whatever it was they did all day. Crowley would be jealous if he cared about books at all, but he found that it was much more fun to pretend to be a snake deity in the woods these days. He did, however, spur-of-the-moment find himself inviting Kravitz to join them, instructing the two of them to 'Finish whatever scripture [they] were studying and meet [him] at Denny to get proper drunk,' which seemed to-the-point.
Crowley found himself a corner in Denny, after trading some root vegetables he'd grown for a bottle of questionably-brewed liquor, and waved to the others as he saw them enter. Three cups were set aside and without even waiting for the other men to have a seat at the table, Crowley was pouring them each a shot.
What: Shots
When: Early Feb.
Where: Denny
Warnings: Alcohol
Another month on this island, this one perhaps the hardest yet. Crowley was well-stressed, and had gotten quite creative when it came to entertaining himself recently in the wake of nearly watching his best friend succumb to a deathly infection of flowers of all things. Still, he yearned for something normal, or however close one could come to such a word in this dreaded place. For Crowley, that meant alcohol.
On his way to Denny, he stopped in the library where he was sure to find Aziraphale working alongside Kravitz on whatever it was they did all day. Crowley would be jealous if he cared about books at all, but he found that it was much more fun to pretend to be a snake deity in the woods these days. He did, however, spur-of-the-moment find himself inviting Kravitz to join them, instructing the two of them to 'Finish whatever scripture [they] were studying and meet [him] at Denny to get proper drunk,' which seemed to-the-point.
Crowley found himself a corner in Denny, after trading some root vegetables he'd grown for a bottle of questionably-brewed liquor, and waved to the others as he saw them enter. Three cups were set aside and without even waiting for the other men to have a seat at the table, Crowley was pouring them each a shot.