Gabriel - Video - 02

[hung_garian]

You can all quit freaking out over The Box now. After painstaking investigation, I can reveal that it contains - a cat. It's simultaneously alive and dead. Hence all the funny scratches - if you ever tried getting your feline friend into a carrier, you'll know what I mean. Claws are not fun, kids, no matter what Whitesnake say. And that goes double for the undead kitty kind. Unhygienic on top of painful, double ouch.

[Needless to say, Gabriel is bored. Also needless to say (hopefully), none of that was true.]

So since that's all sorted out, who likes the idea of celebratory drinks? Sure, we might not technically have a bar, but where there's life there's booze, as my dear old gran used to say. Well, before she got packed off to rehab, anyway.

[He grimaces, despite not even having a grandmother.]

Anyway. Takers? Ladies, don't be shy. Doctor Barrett, that means you too, awful drinking habits notwithstanding.

Comments

[hung_garian]

[He answers the door with a bow.]

Have I mentioned yet how much I like that hat?

[primogen_vampirate]

You have not.

It is rather dapper, isn't it?

[hung_garian]

Oh, very much so. You'd give Gene Kelly a serious run for his money.

[primogen_vampirate]

Afraid I don't know who she is.

[She offers him the bottle.]

Good spirits to keep away poor spirits?

[hung_garian]

[He takes it and, being a complete gentleman, takes a swig before handing it back. At the very least, he steps back into the house, and gestures for her to come in too.]

Entrez, s'il vous plait, mam'zelle.

[primogen_vampirate]

Norse and French? You're quite the Renaissance man. Or god. Or...well...perhaps something else.

[She steps in with a pure cat-who-ate-the-canary look.]

[hung_garian]

I'm a man, god or perhaps something else of many talents, cherie. As I'm sure you'll find out in due time.

[primogen_vampirate]

I'm patient. To a point.

[She takes off her hat, strolling into the nearest room like a general inspecting the troops.]

Charming. Do you have flatmates?

[hung_garian]

Nope. I'm a lone wolf.

[Read: annoying. The room she's entered is barer than one might expect of Gabriel - there are a few cushions lying around and what appears to be a copy of Paradise Lost, currently serving as a coaster for an empty mug, but little else.]

Make yourself at home, honey. Preferably without getting coffins involved, though.

[primogen_vampirate]

Coffins? Surely a god is smarter than to believe the mad ramblings of a drunken Irishman.

[She glances at the copy of Paradise Lost.]

Some light reading?

[hung_garian]

Actually, I find the mad ramblings of drunken Irishmen to be among the most consistently reliable sources there are.

[He follows her gaze, then huffs a laugh.]

Haven't read it since the 1800s, but it's long enough to be pretty damn absorbent if I spill anything.

[primogen_vampirate]

I have always wondered if it was true. If it was better to rule hell than to serve in heaven.

[She takes a seat, loosening her tie a little bit.]

Coming?

[hung_garian]

I'm more of a Midgard guy myself.

[He grabs two glasses from a shelf on the wall - possibly neither the glasses nor the shelf was there before, but who's to say - and saunters over to sit down next to her.]

But I can see how Hell might have its advantages. Great heating system, and I hear the Sunday roasts are to die for.

[primogen_vampirate]

[She draws in air between her teeth.]

Ah. Yes. But, I don't like fire.

[hung_garian]

Well then, Hell's probably not the ideal holiday destination for you, is it? I suggest Spain instead. All the warmth without the torture, unless you have a particularly strong aversion to flamenco dancers.

[primogen_vampirate]

The Spanish are pigs. And bloody awful sailors.

[hung_garian]

Oh, now you're just being unreasonable. Don't you like anything?

[primogen_vampirate]

A few things, here and there.

[She considers it a moment.]

I like the sea.

[hung_garian]

How about a cruise, then? I'm told the QE2's lovely. Admittedly I'm told that by a bunch of old farts who wouldn't know a nice day out from a trip to a knitting museum, but you never know, they might even be right.

[primogen_vampirate]

I'd like that.

I have very few regrets about being what I am. But I will say I do miss sailing.

[hung_garian]

Well, we have a sea here, so if you feel like giving it a try...

[primogen_vampirate]

On what boat?

The one Dean the Idiot Boy thinks he can build?

[hung_garian]

Tie some sticks together and make a raft. That's what we did in Boy Scouts and of all the times we tried, it only didn't work once.

[Of all one times, that is.]

[primogen_vampirate]

[She laughs.]

I suppose we can finally find the answer to the question that has plagued mankind for ages: What are you going to do with a drunken sailor?

[hung_garian]

Honey, the things I do with drunken sailors aren't fit for discussion. Not in the presence of a lady.