Issue 1 Downtime

Daniel had found that he really didn't have any shortage of time to wander and mope, since his companions didn't want anything to do with him. Well, at least some of them had expressed that they didn't, he just assumed that the feeling was mutual. It was easier that way.

For instance, now that he'd found where Vandal kept his alcohol, he didn't have to share any yet. He sat against the wall, a bottle in his hand that he didn't really care to identify the contents of as he drank it, waiting for numbness to hopefully set in.

"Prick. You would find booze and not tell anyone," Felana growled. A light smile would tell him she was joking as she pulled up a seat next to him.

"Hey, who am I going to tell? Everyone'd think I poisoned it or something. I'm a monster, remember?" Daniel slurred back, taking another swig.

"You've got a temper that rivals mine, and are a stubborn piece of shit, but you're no monster," she said grabbing the bottle from him and taking a long drink.

"I think, in the end, we did the right thing..." she said after a moments pause, letting the alcohol warm her throat. "It felt better than I care to admit to tear out that bitch's throat."

"Nah. I'm a monster. I killed half an infirmary of babies. Just ask your buddy Tallyson," he slurred back, taking another deep pull from the bottle, wondering where that happy numb feeling was.

"Call that guy my buddy again and I'll rip your balls off," she smirked.

Daniel smirked. "How'd that guy get to be your team leader, anyway? Prick's wishy-washy as hell."

"Suppose it has something to do with willingness to lead," she sighed.

"Yeah. Waffle, waffle, point fingers, call names, waffle some more... great leading, there."

"We're all still alive, and not subjects of that bitch Valentine. I never questioned it."

Daniel made a noncommittal sound as he took a long pull... well, several long pulls at once, it seemed. The bottom of the bottle was evidently something very interesting he wanted to study.

"Stop bogarding that bottle," she said impatiently. "I need to get the taste of that bitch out of my mouth."

"Find yer own, mass murderers don't share, 'member?" he slurred, even as he handed the bottle over to her.

Steph flashed him a warning glare, snatching the bottle away and setting it on the other side of her just out of his reach. "How many children did she steal away from their families? How many more probably died because of what she did to them? How many suffered tremendous pain to be made 'better?'" she asked. "So cut your 'mass murderer' bullshit."

"Hey, it's true," he said, shrugging. "Denying it won't make it any different. Just ask all your people. That redheaded bitch, Tally-ho-whateverthefuck, they'll tell you. Just an Accolyte needing a fight, y'know?" He picked the bottle back up and took a big drink of it. "If yer gonna go to hell, might as well own it, y'know?"

"What the fuck do they know?" she growled, her features becoming more feral. "The only reason they didn't want to fight was because they thought we'd lose."

Daniel shrugged. "Don't see what the big risk was. Woulda toasted her right there in the hospital if that slut hadn't mindfucked me out of it. So they kill me in the process. No big loss."

Stan wandered over, regarding the two.

"Daniel. Felana." he said, tipping his head.

"She would've probably found a way to survive that. Then what good would that have done us? And I rather disagree about it not being a loss," she said, snatching the bottle away from him and taking a long pull of it herself.

"Hello da....Stan," she said blushing as she caught herself trying to call him dad.

Stan smiled himself, looking at the bottle.

"Someone found the liquor cabinet, I see."

"Travel necessities," Daniel said, yanking the bottle back and taking a drink himself.

Nodding, he produced a small cup.

"Oblige a fellow some necessity, then?"

"Yes. He will," she said snatching the bottle back again, and pouring Stan a healthy cup.

"Hey! What'd I tell you! Monsters don't share their booze!" Daniel protested, although he obviously waited for her to be done pouring before snatching the bottle back.

"No monsters here, from what I can see."

Holding up his cup, he took a sip, swishing it around before swallowing.

"Urrh. Good stuff, good stuff!"

Daniel just rolled his eyes and took a heavy swig.

"I will break that bottle over your head if you pull it out of my hands again, Uriel," she growled.

"Well whaddya expect, y'keep taking it from me!"

"Well at this point, you're just going to puke every last bit of that shit up, or you're going to die of alcohol poisoning."

"Pfff, I don't puke from drinking. And I can't die. I'm so evil that I'm now immune to mundane things that might make me too easy to kill."

Stan chuckled, watching the scene.

"You're evil now? Well good. I'm glad that's settled."

"Oh, shuvvit, old man," Daniel grumbled.

"So what do I get for taking care of your drunk ass, vomiting all over this castle?"

Stan took another sip, looking at Daniel with a smile..

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

"Y'dont need to take care of me," Daniel slurred, standing back up again. "I'm fine. Don't need taken care 'f." Don't deserve it, either.

Steph rose with him, "The hell I don't. I'm not letting one of the two people I give a rat's ass about do this to himself."

"Wooah. easy, Daniel."

Stan got under an arm, helping him up.

"Oh quit it," Daniel growled, pulling away from Stan and only somewhat stumbling into Felana. "The stupid Accolyte can take care of himself. He's used to it."

"Fine," she growled, stepping back abruptly.

It was perhaps cruel that she hoped so much for him to fall flat on his face.

He didn't fall on his face, but there was an audible 'thump' when his head hit the stone wall. He wasn't after all, expecting her to suddenly give up on him for telling Stan to piss off.

He blinked, holding his hand against the wall for a moment to try to get the room to stop spinning. Then remembering that the room had already been spinning before he hit his head, he staggered toward the door.