asgardeventide | 005 ღ audio

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005 ღ audio

[Uncomfortable. That's one name she could put to it. What's weirder still, is that this whole thing just seems out of place. She knows who she's fretting about, but she doesn't really know him. Isn't that weird? It should be weird. But it doesn't seem so, right about now. All she's after is, if at all preferable, for a certain knight to show up where he's supposed to be. Even if that kind of involves her calling him out. She's put it off for a while, and now? Now it's almost unbearable. She feels like she's stuck in a loop of panic and that is something she cannot stand for.]

So this should all blow over in a few days, yeah? Or ... maybe sooner. That'd be great.

Don't s'pose anyone has any knock-out drugs, do they?

[Because loathe to anyone she lets see her over video. She looks a bloody wreck. Terrible sleep the past few days, coupled with high levels of agitation during the day? Oh yeah, she looks fabulous.]

Sir Percival? Mind givin' me a ring? [Yeah, that might be .. out of nowhere.]

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I know somethin' that'll knock you out.

[And what he's thinking of isn't prescription pills even though he has those on hand too. He's thinking booze. Cold, hard, liquor. A bottle of hunter's helper and the right concoction'll do the trick.]

Yeah?

[Dean. Are you trying to get her drunk? Because it totally might work.]

Yeah, I know a place where you can drink yourself under the table... and it'll be on me.

[She nearly chokes- And that might have been a laugh.]

I hadn't even thought of that.

[...No, she's not considering it. She really isn't. At all. It's not like it's been ages since she drank, nor would it be easy as pie to get drunk enough to maybe put her to sleep.]

... Where? An' all on you, really? That seems a bit nice for a stranger. [Mostly. She's pretty sure she's spoken to Dean at least once before.]

The Roadhouse. I'll give you the 10-20.

[Dean sends her some directions in a text file.]

Be there in twenty and we can see how long it'll take you to drop. What can I say? I'm a sweetheart.

Twenty minutes, mister.

[Let's say this is past the visit from her security-Knight-blanket, and he's had to go off and leave again. She's still feeling the anxiety and booze? Booze is actually sounding kind of good. If just to put her to sleep. Meds don't usually work thanks to all the immunization shots she'd had on the TARDIS and from Torchwood and a whole other bout of reasons. So with a vaguely confirming noise, she takes a look over the directions, grabs her coat and heads out the door. Doesn't much matter if her hands are wringing the whole way there.]

[Dean had Jo teach him how to make purple nurples the first week he was here and now he has a bunch lined up over the bar counter while he waits for Rose.

He's got no clue what she looks like but she sounds hot. Hopefully she matches up with her voice.]

[Rose might have taken just beer, but that wouldn't have gotten her drunk. So good on you Dean, for learning and applying said skill to the real world.

And hey, Rose wouldn't ever be the first to admit she had a 'hot voice'. Dean on the other hand... Well, he sounded pretty enough to be a nice distraction for a while. But twentyish minutes later, and she's hauling the door open to the Roadhouse. She could look nicer, what with her hair in a pony and a scant less amount of makeup than normal, but hey. She's stressed.]

'Lo?

[It was a bit early for a bar's regular hours. Was he waiting?]

Hey. Glad to see the face that matches the voice. I'm Dean.

[Dean holds out a shot and knocks one back from his own line.]

[Dean. Pls.]

Pleasure. I'm Rose.

[She will readily take that shot, and not so readily debate over actually knocking it back. She'd come this far, hadn't she?]

You're sure this is alright? I'm not gonna get a massive bill in a few days or anything?

[Well, she can afford one shot. So that gets knocked back with a cringe and swallowed not!cough.]

[Dean gestures to a seat in front of the bar and flashes her a grin.]

Huh. Had you pegged for a lightweight. Looks like I've got my work cut out for me.

[Way to avoid the question, Dean-o.]

Oh, no, I'm probably still a lightweight. [Look, she's still cringing, but taking the seat and eyeing the next shot.]

But I'm also used to alien vodka.

[If there's a bill, he'll cover it. Dean's not gonna let her go home with a tab.]

If that's true these should get you on the fast track to bein' smashed.

[And he's glad to help, really. Dean throws back another shot and turns the cup over.]

The hell is alien vodka?

[She'll take a moment before knocking her next one down. It burns, but it's a really nice distraction from the anxiety that's making her foot twitch and bounce on the stool seat's edge.]

Vodka from somewhere that isn't Earth. [Smirk.] Hypervodka is gorgeous. [Another downing- it's less shudder-worthy this time.] Double the effects, except it tunes into your nervous system. Sense of touch gets amplified.

Less of a hangover too. Well actually no, it's a nasty hangover. But it has a cure for it, so it's not so bad.

Wasn't aware other planets were inhabitable.

[Or so said NASA anyway. Earth was the only place that could sustain life.]

But Hypervodka sounds pretty damn sweet.

[Dean pushes the next shot to her.]

These babies are called Purple Nurples. Like I said they'll get you hammered nice and quick.

Not all of 'em, no.

[Her smirk bleeds into a grin as he pushes the next drink forward, appreciates the mention of her favoured booze. She'll take that shot with a little more gusto than the former. Purple Nurples... She's definitely starting to feel it. Nice and fuzzy and having a much easier time ignoring the nerves that don't want to leave her alone.]

They taste good once you get past the first few. [Eheh.] If Th'TARDIS were here you could try some. M'sure I stashed a bottle in my room when I travelled in it..

What the hell's a Tardis?

[Dean's starting to realize this girl is probably from some whacked out reality but he's got no room to talk. With what he does he's practically the king of crazy.

Dean downs a few more shots to keep up and leans forward on the bar between their two rows of shots.]

Don't think I'm missin' out. As far as I'm concerned, I'm in good company.

[Somehow, even just the question, however much she knew he'd ask, makes her snicker.]

I bet you are! [Ahem.] TARDIS is a time machine. An' a space ship. Time an' relative dimension in space. Big blue police box- but that's just a disguise.

You are pretty good company, by the way. But you probably think I'm crazy. [She's eyeing another shot.] An' I'm not even drunk yet.

Mostly.

You're not the first cute crazy chick I've kept around.

[There've been a few recent ones and a lot of not so recent women that the list is pretty long.]

Mostly? Here, lemme fix that.

[Dean goes ahead and mixes her a few more of those shots, throwing back his last in the line as he finishes topping her off.]

[Well, she doesn't blush, but the flirting is nice. She can appreciate it. Besides, he's still pretty. Even bordering on the Captain's level, if she's honest.]

You're too kind.

[Still, she'll finish off a few more, squeeze her eyes shut after a triple shot (in a row), and give her head a shake. Oh yeah, she's feeling it. Shots are good for that.]

S'you're not affected this time? By the curse-thing?

Guess I lucked out. Spill the beans... what'd the gods dish out this time?

[Dean leans across the bar from her. Now that he's loosened up himself he's more comfortable with talking about the gods and their issues.]

[Well that's a plus. Though in all honesty, Rose isn't sure talking about what's making her uncomfortable is the best idea. Not that it stops her, of course.]

I think, from what I've seen so far. It's some sort've... Security thing. Like when you're a little kid, an' you've got a blanket or teddie or somethin' that makes you calm down or happy when you're sad. Except now adults've got it. An' it's not always a thing. Mine's a person. Someone I've only met once or twice, too.

[Yeah, no more smiling. Time to knock back another Nurple.]

Huh. That's the best they got?

[Dean's experienced a lot worse from pagan gods before. He tips back another shot from his newly replenished line.]

Be glad it's not human sacrifice.

That would feel more like my world.

[Oh, that was said rather darkly. Of course, it's gone as soon as it's came.]

S'pose it's not that bad. Makes y'feel ruddy awful though. Panic attacks, anxiety, anger... Still feel it now. Jus', a bit less. Nice fuzz-- Buzz. Meant buzz.

S'tell me about yourself, Dean. There a last name there? Where're you from?

Been there.

[Dean forces a smile and traces his finger around the outside of one of the shotglasses.]

Uh, Winchester.

[Dean doesn't answer about where he's from because he doesn't think it matters. He's spent his whole life on the road anyway.]

Sorry to hear about the cursed thing. How long do they usually last?

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