Are You Smarter Than a Crossroads Demon?

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Who: Crowley and others (If you want a thread here, I have several open ideas here under my list of plans, so just let me know!)
Where: Inside TVLand
When: Throughout the event
Rating: PG13
Summary: TV Traps and good times!

Links to threads:

Desperate Companions | Married With Demons | Jackasses | 21 Demon Street | Demons and Tiaras | True Souls

Comments

True Blood | D'artagnan

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oops I tl;dr I am so sorry

[strangeboy]

D'Artagnan's been amused by this event, really, because it's not the worst thing in the world that could happen. Being forced to play strange roles so you don't get hit with a face full of cold water (which he'd learned the hard way, thank you) is certainly better than having your senses manipulated or someone following you around, spouting all your secrets or whispering in your ear. In any case, he's found all the situations he's been in more entertaining than harmful, and he hopes they stay that way.

So, he's not entirely surprised when he opens the door to the diner on the 5th floor and walks into a place that is not at all like their diner. It's much more rustic, and it's suddenly gotten very hot, humid, and there are quite a few people he doesn't know in here. He's holding a towel, which he's fairly certain he wasn't before, and in lieu of his usual dress, he's wearing ratty blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Hm.

"Hey, are you gonna make these drinks or not?" D'Artagnan looks around and finds the source of the voice. It's a woman, tall and blonde, and who looks very much like someone D'Artagnan used to know, but he'd rather not think about that. She's smiling at him though, and it takes a moment before his mind kicks into gear.

"Right, right, sorry. Give me the order again," he says, because how hard can preparing drinks be?

"Two vodka sours, one sex on the beach and one long island," she says, slapping a piece of paper down in front of him. He's about to ask what the hell sex on the beach is, and why it sounds so familiar when the door opens with the sound of a bell, and the whole place quiets as-- well that's-- that's Crowley, who's just walked in.

"Heard that guy's a vampire," someone at the bar whispers, and D'Artagnan can only raise his eyebrow at all of this.

"Funny meeting you here," D'Artagnan says to Crowley, giving him a small smile.

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Ah. Crowley recognizes the set-up pretty quickly, especially when he overhears that he's a vampire. Delightful.

He flashes the girl a grin as he saunters up to the bar. He's not one for all the brooding bullshit when he knows he's got charm in his own right. He doesn't need all that fake mystery.

As soon as he sits down, the smile is turned on D'artagnan. "One Tru Blood, please."

Glancing back at the girl, he can tell that he's already caught her attention. Good.

"I do hope you read some of those books, because this is definitely an improvement over Jackass."

[strangeboy]

D'Artagnan doesn't want to ask what "Jackass" is, because it sounds unpleasant in its very nature, so he grins, and reaches down into the ice box to grab a Tru Blood. He sets it in front of Crowley, leaning in.

"I was under the impression that this event only involved television and film. Did they adapt the material?" They might have discussed that before, but D'Artagnan can't remember either way.

"Hey, D'Artagnan, those drinks?" The blonde woman-- Sookie, he imagines-- says to him, and he nods, turning around to fetch them.

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"There's a TV show. Awful thing. I love it." He's a sucker for a good unhealthy romance, what can he say?

His attention turns to the woman, because he's supposed to play his role and woo her, isn't he? "Hello, Darling. Lovely town you've got here. How'd you like to show me around?"

She returns his smile and isn't that... predictable. "I get off work in a few hours."

"Wonderful. I'm patient."

[strangeboy]

D'Artagnan's turned around and started making the drinks-- thankfully, it seems to be a strange sort of magical muscle memory and he doesn't have to think about it much-- when Crowley begins ah, fulfilling his role as it were, and he frowns slightly. This all seems a bit pointless. She's not a real woman, right?

Though, when he turns around to deliver the drinks again, he can't help but be reminded again of Constance. Yes, while it's true Constance was a little less constant than D'Artagnan had hoped, he still must feel something residually, because it's mildly annoying to see people leer at her. Or perhaps it's more mansion magic.

"Really, Crowley? I didn't know you preferred blondes."

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"I don't, but I'll take what I can get. I much prefer darker features." He says this right in front of her, because she's not real, anyway, though she does look offended. Oh, well.

"You're more my type than she is, but that's all very... bad fanfiction, isn't it?" He's well-aware that D'Artagnan will have no clue what that means and he has no intent of explaining it, either. Everyone can use a bit of confusion it their lives. Well, everyone who isn't Crowley. Gives him the upper hand.

"Sam and Bill? I don't see it."

[strangeboy]

That's...a rather odd thing for him to say, actually, and whether or not he intends to make a pass at D'Artagnan, the boy still blushes faintly, and doesn't address the comment. And the one about "bad-fanfiction", whatever that is.

"Sam and Bill?" Oh , of course he'd be stuck being Sam, the one no one likes. He sighs. "Be nice to her, at least. She reminds me of someone I knew once."

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"Do I look like anything other than a kind and gentle lover?" The careful how you answer that, boy is implied in the looks that accompanies that.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't care much for being Beel. I'm more an Eric. You'd think this place would get that by now." He rolls his eyes.

"And you're..." It takes him a moment and he squints as he toys around with the roles in the series. "Hoyt. Or maybe Jason."

[strangeboy]

D'Artagnan supposes the best way to answer that would be to say nothing at all and make a sort of vague shrugging motion and head movement. It's not a yes and it's not a no. It's not really anything, so, no harm done?

He snorts at that. "I think you're much more of an Eric as well," he says, "Much too well-mannered to be Bill." Because really, who wants to be Bill? He's awful, at least in D'Artagnan's opinion. And very annoying.

"Jason?" He raises an eyebrow. He can see Hoyt easily enough, but Jason? He likes to think he wouldn't make such stupid decisions. He shrugs it off.

"What does that taste like?" he asks, nodding at the bottle of Tru Blood that Crowley had asked for. "I've been curious."

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Crowley hadn't meant it as an intelligence jab. D'Artagnan simply has a youthful energy to him that Crowley finds both endearing and mildly annoying. But then, he finds everyone mildly annoying, so perhaps that isn't noteworthy.

He takes a drink from his bottle and pulls a face, holding it back and glaring at it.

"Nothing like blood, that's for sure."

And then the bottle is held out in offer. May as well share the bitter aftertaste.

[strangeboy]

D'Artagnan frowns, but he knows better than to ask how Crowley knows what actual blood tastes like. He'll just choose to believe that Crowley's also been in his fair share of fights and can recall the sharp, metallic tang of it easily enough. It wouldn't be difficult to believe, after all.

He takes the bottle and sniffs it before lift it to his lips to take a sip. He's forgotten where he is, of course, so the second he does it, the whole place goes quiet and he thinks he hears a plate smash and a gasp. Please. How dramatic.

He lowers the bottle and clears his throat. Disgusting aftertaste indeed.

"Can't say I'm a fan of it," he says, looking only at Crowley for the time being.