sirenspull | 001 [Video]: Oh, Canada.

[The NV turns on, showing a very sleek-looking dark-haired man with sharp cheekbones and sunglasses smirking at the camera. Even over the NV, one can tell that this is a person who knows he's better than everyone else around him- there is no uncertainty in his features, just full-on arrogance. When he finally speaks, his English accent is so smooth one can practically roll a carpet on it.]

Well, let's see here. You know, I've been going through this thing's previous posts and such, and wow, all the entries from people who have just arrived really share a lot in common. You'd think that there's some kind of checklist that we have to get through once we arrive. Like, number one, you must certainly, without a doubt, ask "where am I?" or "what is going on?" or "why have I been dragged across time and space itself to the wretched wannabe of a place that is Canada?" Because finding out things by asking people who might lie to your face instead of quietly gathering information by your lonesome is clearly the way to go.

[A pause as he lets that sink in.]

Second, you must ask where your friends or family or dog or beloved garden gnome is in this place. Which, most of the time, results in nothing but statements like "No, I haven't seen your gnome" to "Oh, yes, your gnome was here before, but I'm not sure where he's gone off to now, sorry about that".So why bother asking? No, I'm going to skip that part entirely- I've already checked the NV for the people I know and they're not here, so, just look at all the time I saved.

Third, you may either a), mention that you "can't stay here because you have something important to go back to" or b), basically give your whole life story to people because you can. I'm not doing the first option because, frankly, I'd rather not repeat the Apocalypse all over again, thank you, and I'm not doing the second one because, honestly, I'd rather keep all of you in the dark. Why in the world should I reveal who I am or what I do without knowing exactly who lives in this place?

[He grins widely.]

What I can tell you is that the name's Crowley. [He pronounces it like it rhymes with "holy".] Anthony J. Crowley. And I do not need your pats on the back or your offers to be my best friend ever or your little cheerful fake welcomes. All I need is information about the darkness at night and how this city works and other such things.

Do be nice and provide it to me. I'm sure a few of you have the collective brain to do so.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[What.]

[What is happening.]

[IS THIS THE REAL LIFE]

[IS THIS JUST FANTASY-]

...Um. Yeah. A-a bar would be good.

[THE LAST TIME HE SAW YOU YOU WERE IN A MOTORCYCLE HELMET AND YELLING EVERYTHING WHAT IS GOING ONNNNN]

[Smiles.] I happen to run a bar in sector four. It's called Mugshots. Stop on by if you want a drink, I'd love to catch up!

Erm. Right. Mugshots.

[He is going to have a drink with Death what is his life. And no, he's not refusing, because he just came out of the Apocalypse so he's still on edge about things like Death popping up and putting a real damper on his situation of living.]

[Better to get the thing over with and try to pretend that, you know, he's having a drink at Death's bar.]

Mind giving me directions...?

Sector four. It's right across the street from the police station. We run the bounty hunting business out of here, hold on...

[She send shim the address and a nice map!]

Alright then, I'll be heading over there soon because alcohol is something I sorely need in these desperate times.

[He's not going to even ask about the bounty hunting business. All he's doing is trying not to have a casual nervous breakdown over drinking with Death. Yeah. No biggie. He can do this. One of the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse who was actually kind of terrifying even though he(she?) kind of looks different now.]

Be there soon.

[Either way, he was going to get some alcohol and he was going to feel happy about it.]

See you soon! [And she would be waiting behind the bar for him to come in.]

[And he comes in, but not before pausing to check to see if there are any demons or such hanging out behind the countertop. When that's done, he goes and leans on the counter, trying to act as smooth as possible.]

Alright. Alcohol. You promised me some.

Hey! [She grins, getting out a glass from under the counter.]

What's your poison?

[He stares at her for a while at the poison bit, trying to remember if Death actually had a sense of humor or not.]

...Wine. Preferably red.

[She has a sense of humor! A big one, actually, and she nods, grabbing a wine glass and taking a few minutes to pick a nice Cabernet. She brought it back, sliding it over to him with a smile.]

Like I said, it's on the house. You didn't have trouble finding the place, right?

Thanks.

[He takes the glass and just stares at the liquid inside for a while, as if, by the power of his serpentine gaze, he can see every single molecule to determine that yes, the wine is actually wine.

[Which isn't something he can actually do, but hey, it's worth a try.]

No, not really. The layout's a bit strange, but after you've been in England the last several hundred years, you tend to get used to that rather than Canada.

[And finally, he goes ahead and takes a sip. Really, what does he have to lose? But the wine is nice, he has to admit, so he takes a few more sips before putting the wine glass down to turn his attention back on her.]

So, um...what made you get into the bar business? Seems like an odd job for somebody like you.

Well, it is Canada. I always liked the place, actually, but I think I'm one of the only ones! [She laughs at her own joke, leaning against the bar.]

Oh, well, it's a short story. A few months back, the owner decided she didn't want it anymore, so I said I'd help out. At the same time, the person in charge of bounty hunting gave up her spot, so both me and a friend helped her out, too. So, now we're in charge of Mugshots, and the bounty hunting business!

001 [Video]: Oh, Canada.

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