(log) tdm prompts

[demonicmiracle]

Who: crowley + various
When: may
Where: dogtown + the train to the appalachians
Summary: what it says on the tin
Notes: this is gonna be closed prompts, but feel free to hit me up if you'd like a thing!!
Warnings: scary dark times, will update as needed or put warnings in the comments

Comments

[bindlestifflost]

You know it.

[He's still grinning and pointedly ignoring the desk as they pass. When Crowley drags the chair over, he turns it around and straddles it to rest his arms on the back of it.]

I got your back.

[Not that he's expecting anything. It's a book quiz. How bad can it be?]

[demonicmiracle]

Much appreciated.

[He doffs a pretend hat that he doesn't have, then proceeds to reluctantly push his sunglasses up so he can see the screen better. Clearly the worst part of being human is not being able to ignore the dark lenses.

The first round of questions are basic, a few titles and authors to guess from multiple choice options, a couple of dates thrown in. An Agatha Christie one throws him, and he ends up squinting at the screen.]

You've not read that one, have you? I can never remember if Christie was that big in the States back then.

[bindlestifflost]

[He snorts amusement, almost tempted to offer his hat, but the moment passes quickly.

The quiz is already over his head. At the question, he reluctantly shakes his head.]

Naw, sorry. I didn't finish high school. So I'm imaginin' most a' this is gonna go way over my head, not to mention most of it prob'ly was written after I was born.

[demonicmiracle]

Well hey, I never even started high school.

[Formal education isn't exactly something the demons, or even angels, tend to bother with. They came fully formed, and most of them are certain they know everything there is to know.

Crowley's dabbled, mostly by popping into university classes, but there's a lot he doesn't know.]

And I reckon this one should be around your time, but I'm rubbish with dates. [Too many of them.] Let's hope the wrong answer doesn't kill me.

[Because he's just going to go ahead and guess.

And apparently get it wrong.

Bummer :( ]

[bindlestifflost]

[That earns him a quick flash of an appreciative smile. He'd never guess it, as Crowley's edges don't seem half as rough as his own.

Still, he knows education isn't everything. Experience counts, too. He watches the guess and makes a small sound of disappointment.]

Rough luck. Maybe the next one'll be better.

[demonicmiracle]

[The next one, unfortunately, isn't much better. Not in the sense that Crowley doesn't know the answer, because he does, but because he's fairly certain the question isn't one that comes from a book.

What is the name of the Fifth Horseman Of The Apocalypse? waits on the screen, a textbook flashing where he's expected to input his answer. For a brief second, he considers playing it off as nothing, on the assumption George could likely believe it does have something to do with a book, but when he finds himself typing the answer without intending to, he can't stop himself frowning.]

I think it might be time to call it.

[There's a hint of concern in his tone, but it's more annoyance than anything right now.

Which only gets worse when he attempts to stand, only to find he can't.]

Fuck.

[bindlestifflost]

[Looks like maybe something out of the Bible, which he guesses is a book but not something he'd expect to be counted as recreational reading. Still, Crowley seems to know the answer, and sure enough, it's right.

He's about to congratulate him until he says that.]

This that time when I'm supposed to wallop you one?

[His eyes narrow with concern as he glances back at the screen.

On a scale of 1-10 how satisfying was killing Ligur?]

[demonicmiracle]

[Crowley winces slightly at the question, not out of guilt so much as awareness that humans have a fairly different perspective on things like murder, and that he's likely going to have to explain himself.]

Afraid we might be past the point where a good wallop would help.

[He does have to pause before answering, to actually think about it; there wasn't all that much time to process it as it happened, and it isn't something he's so hung up on that he gave it much thought here.

It ends up being an 8 for his answer. It would've been more satisfying if it was Hastur, but that wasn't the question.]

It was self-defense, for the record. The bastard would've done worse than kill me if I hadn't stopped him.

[The downside to answering one question is that the next one is now free to display on the screen.

Why didn't you attend Leonardo's funeral?]

Alright, that's just bloody rude.

[bindlestifflost]

[He nods, his look maybe a little more understanding than expected. He doesn't ask, doesn't challenge, just accepts it, and this time it's his turn to wince at the question.

That's damned personal.]

Gonna try something.

[He reaches over to try to turn off the computer. He'd absorbed enough from those classes to know how to do that much. Or so he'd thought. The prompt just sits there with a flashing cursor.]

Well, if that ain't a kick in the pants.

[A low grumble. This time he goes to yank the cable, unceremoniously, standing and leaning over.]

That do it?

[demonicmiracle]

[Well, at least George didn't freak out, which really isn't too much of a shock if he thinks about it for a second or two. George is a sensible bloke.

Evident by the fact he's smart enough to consider turning the computer off. That it doesn't work also isn't a surprise, but points for trying.]

If only it were that easy.

[But he'll take the second while George is busy with the cable to quickly type in his answer and hit send, to save anyone from seeing that he might have emotions. Hopefully he can just get through these questions and get it over with.

Which would be easier to do if the next question wasn't Do you really think She's listening?]

Oh, fuck you.

[He might click a little too hard on the no option, because fuck this.]

[bindlestifflost]

[The fact the damn thing's still going with the cable pulled is cursed and has him all hot under the collar.

He leans back and grabs for Crowley instead, hard fists twisting into his jacket to do his damnedest to haul him to his feet and drag him away from the thing.

If that doesn't work, he's out of options beyond trying to smash the monitor with a chair, something he's pretty sure will get him banned, arrested, or both.]