cape_kore | [ video ]

[ Same said pretty face doesn't actually belong to her, really. Meg likes it. She likes her vessel on the whole. It's petite and curvy and pretty. ]

I'll see you soon, then. No need to knock. Door's open.

[It takes her about twenty minutes to pick up a bottle of wine — well, two — that doesn't look potentially lethal. And looks like wine, for certain. It would be a shame to go all this way and bring alien sparkling juice, though at least it would be a different experience.

Fortescue steps through the door with the wine tucked into her other arm, reasonably certain it's the right one.]

Bonjour, mademoiselle.

You found the place alright then, I see.

[ Meg offers a half smile. Definitely subdued compared to her normal sassy attitude, that's for sure. Licking her wounds and feeling sorry for herself is hardly her style.

Lying low, on the other hand, is an art she's been mastering for some time. It was how she managed to stay alive as long as she had. Funny how falling in love with an angel messed that plan up. ]

And you have bottles. Not holy water, I hope?

[Fortescue smiles back, setting down one of the bottles.]

I wouldn't even know where to start, love, unless it's all in bottles marked with a cross. [Maybe it is.] Bringing some strikes me as terribly rude, however, considering recent events.

[She's capable of being sadistic, but only toward Nazis and Inveterates. Who, in her mind, have earned such impulses. Unless Meg attacks her, the demon's safe. Fortescue's tired of fighting... and hurting others. Or worse.]

It's just wine, if I'm reading labels correctly.

I like you. You can visit any time.

[ Meg's been on her best behaviour since she arrived at Cape Kore and yet there are still people who would sooner stab her than look at her simply because of what she is.

Jerks.

Being good kinda sucks. But being near her angel and making new friends makes it almost worth it. ]

Wine sounds brilliant right now, I gotta say.

[The glasses that Fortescue's stuck in her coat pocket — at least this place has seen fit to give her a coat, evidently it likes her — aren't glamorous, but they'll do. They aren't plastic, at least. Jazz, padding into the room, looks discerningly at Meg, sitting between Fortescue and the door.]

Then I hope that's what we've got. [She has to improvise a little on the opening, but a touch of magic later — the shadows in the room stirring for a second or two — and she pops out the cork, sniffing.] So far, so good.

Did someone actually threaten to bring you holy water, or was that something that happened previous?

I was given moonshine laced with holy water while trapped in a devil's trap. It's not very pretty when you start coughing up your internal organs while being helpless to get away - and they call me the monster.

[ Meg shoots Jazz a look. She wonders if Cas has met him yet. But if Fort knows Cas, then it's likely that Cas has met Jazz. At least he hasn't brought Jazz home and tried to keep him.

Seriously, that angel needs a pet - other than the Winchesters. ]

I'm no saint. Goes with the territory of being a demon. But humans can be every bit as cruel as a demon. And yet we're the ones hunted down.

[She makes a face. Meg might be a demon, but Fortescue has recently spent a solid week in the most agonizing torture a magic user can be put through. She can sympathize, in addition to generally dwelling in a very grey place. She pours the wine, after a sniff to make sure that's what it is, and hands Meg a glass.]

Some humans are hunted down, too. I should know. I used to do some of the hunting.

[ Meg accepts the glass with a smile. She hadn't even expected glasses. Mostly she just swigs from a bottle. A glass is almost a luxury. ]

Usually the humans being hunted are not the ones who deserve it. Not that I'm saying the ones you hunted didn't deserve it.

[ Yeah, she's just going to shut up now. ]

So... Thanks for the wine. Definitely what the doctor ordered for post-death blues.

[Fortescue sits on the edge of the bed with a smile. She tries not to think about it much, right now, the people she killed. But there's no denying it, not really. Some of them deserved it; she'd seen how the tyrants had treated the people around them. But some of them? Maybe she wasn't given all the right information.

Who knows, now.]

No trouble. [She winks, sips her wine.] Alcohol fixes a lot of problems. Glass bottles don't make good crutches, but I'm not known for my good decisions.

[ Meg has no room to judge. Her hands are so stained with blood it's unreal. She's no saint, that much is certain. ]

What fun are good decisions? It's the bad ones that always have the best outcomes.

Unless death is the outcome.

Mostly bad decisions are the best. Like sleeping with angels. And Winchesters.

I'd say you have a fetish going there.

[Fortescue grins, shrugs.]

Not that I can fault you for it.

What can I say? I like the danger of sleeping with someone who could just as easily kill me as make me come undone.

[ And she likes pretty men - let's face it - Dean, Balthazar and Cas are pretty hot, right? Right. ]

What about you? What makes your nethers quiver?

[Meg's not going to get any arguing from Fortescue. It's a shame that two of them are spoken for, and the other one she's divided on because her bestie has a crush a mile wide. What are social customs and why are they so confusing?]

Hmm. [She considers.] A sense of humor is a plus. Nice hygiene, hair. [And gender is a complete non-issue. As is species.] I suppose I'm not all that picky, really. Or my nethers aren't, at least. Good company is... good company.

[She sips her wine. It helps that she finds a truly remarkable range of features, sizes and shapes to be attractive.]

[ Meg's willing to share the hunter and the nerd angel with Fortescue. She's already sharing them with each other. It's complicated. But it works. And the added sex with Dean is a bonus she never expected. ]

I'll drink to that!

[ And she does! One big sip of her own wine. Humans are usually so hung up on these kind of things. And Fort is right. Good company is good company. The fleshy meatsacks should learn a thing or two from her! ]

[Fortescue chuckles. The world would be a much happier place if they took some notes from her. Or worlds, apparently.]

Never a dull moment. In theory. Things get rather quiet around here, sometimes.

Maybe we should gather all the eye candy together and form an exclusive fuck club - that'd liven things up!

[ She's kidding! But at least it gets a laugh out of her. ]

[Oh, good, a laugh!]

I like the way you think, darling.

[She grins, sips her wine again.]

We could use some excitement around here that isn't monsters trying to kill us. Or ghosts, for that matter.

[ Meg sips her own. ]

I'm definitely up for excitement that doesn't end in death - my death, at least.

[ Other people? Meh. She can take it or leave it. There's only a few people she really cares about. ]

It's nicer. You know, generally.

[Even injuries are nicer. She'll take her bites, which are nearly faded now, over getting mauled to death.]

So what do you get up to around here, when you're not in the company of angels and Winchesters? Any hobbies?

Is drinking a hobby? I do a lot of that. And sleeping. Funny really, since I don't need to sleep. There's something quite wonderful about it. Especially when I dream.

Demons didn't dream for so long.

What about you? Hobbies? Interests?

Might as well be a hobby.

[It is in Imperium. What are pubs for, after all?]

It's certainly one of mine. Mostly, when I'm not doing that, I wander. Go to the library. See if I can't dig anything up. Though with the group in the library, you'd think they would have found something by now, if there was something to find.

[Fortescue smirks.]

And ogling. I suppose I do a fair amount of that.

[At least she's up-front about it?]

I definitely approve of drinking and ogling as hobbies. Can't say I've spent much time in the library...

[ Aside from the odd trip to stock up on cheesy romance novels to read with Dean. It's kinda their thing. Booze and mutual reading of purple prose.

She leans over to top up both their glasses. Hopefully Fort has a high alcohol tolerance... ]

There are some interesting books there. Unusual things from other worlds. I'm not much of a reader, admittedly, but it's something to do on one's own.

[Her tolerance is rubbish, in fact. Which means she doesn't have to spend much to get drunk, when she wants to. But it also means she can get tipsy when she doesn't want to.

Fortescue doesn't have an aversion at the moment, however, and grins at the refill.]

Thank you.

[ Oh well. Meg will carry her home if need be, or she can just crash here. As long as she doesn't puke. Meg has a no puke policy in her room! ]

Maybe I'll check it out some time.

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