Drinking bourbon with torndownsoldier

[lovessweetbait]

It's a little before noon, on a Wednesday. She's somewhere in the New World, the United States, one of the middle states, one of the cold ones. Her breath huffs in too-quick sharp white clouds as she- well, as they walk the two blocks from the diner to the bar, but she hasn't noticed. She hasn't said a word since they stepped outside

Comments

sorry it took me so long D:

[torndownsoldier]

"I take it y'ain't too pleased with the whole crushin' thing then?" Dean asks, nursing his own glass and watching her put it away with a begrudging impressed air. "If it helps I think my Gods are different than yours."

No worries! I'm off to make dinner, but it shouldn't take long, then I'm around for the night.

[lovessweetbait]

And there went the second bourbon, straight down to check on the first. "I've had better news," she answers quietly, staring at the bottom of the empty glass. "Your gods are nightmarish."

She looks up, blinking in dawning realization. "...Does this mean that during our entire conversation in the snow, you were expecting me to rush forward and...like you were some kind of entree?"

I am sadly GMT but hopefully my net won't crash and I'll be around a bit more

[torndownsoldier]

"Well, not all of 'em want to eat you. Some of them just like the stabbing and general mayhem." He shrugs, draining his glass at her question, "I'm used to things tryin' to off me, God or not."

Ooh, net problems are always so annoying. I'm Eastern time myself

[lovessweetbait]

Eros makes a face at the bottle and pours herself another drink. "Well, I wasn't," she says, unnecessarily at this point, "and I didn't plan on trying to off you either. What happened to humankind being the sources of our belief?" It's more of a rhetorical question as she drinks half the glass and sighs, propping her chin on her hand.

If this melancholy is because of hormones, Eros is going back to a male form as soon as possible.