Really needs...a drink.

[servant_of_oz]

Who: Gilbert and anyone that wants to come in
Where The Kitchen
When: After all of the mess with Oz and Vincent
Rating: ...pg-13 for now?
Summary: After all the mess that had happened once in Gil's life he felt like he really needed a drink. and a Note Gil can't handle his alcohol and he goes from an angry drunk to a crying mess XD
the Story:

Comments

[dusty_divinity]

[Azirapahle simply loved the kitchen. The gleaming surfaces, the fancy ovens and mixers, the way necessary ingredients placed themselves in egronomicaly convenient places, all cumulated in a top-notch cooking experience, so long as the angel didn't dwell too long on the idea that such things were quite unnecessary in a place like the Mansion.

A few thousand years of practice meant Aziraphale was one....h-e-double chopsticks....of a cook.

The library had been kind enough to provide the seraph with an ancient cooking volume, from which Azirpahale had dutifully copied down several recipies. A card detailing how to make pot de creme was clutched in his hand as he rounded the corner. His hesitation was only for a moment, as heavenly concern for this man flared like a sun behind his eyes. The gentleman seemed to be drinking alone, and that sort of thing never bode well.]

Mind if I join you?

[He asked, in a friendly voice thick with a British accent]

[servant_of_oz]

The sudden voice did cause him to be thrown off a little and he spilt a little wine but quickly recovered himself. Letting out a heavy sigh he nodded drinking a little more.

"Sure...I don't care." Any other time he would be a little guarded but right now he didn't care everything was screwed up anyway.

[dusty_divinity]

[Aziraphale reached out for the fine Chateau Lafite he knew would be waiting, and poured himself an affable glass. Letting the wine breathe for a moment, the angel took an experimental sip and smiled beatifically. This, this was the 'good stuff', as they said. The joy concurrent with the imbibing of fine wine faded somewhat when he got a better look at the other man's face, and as he set the glass down, he decided a subtle approach might be best. Being blunt hadn't worked very well last time, after all.

Leaving the bottle conspicuously uncorked, Aziraphale went to the refrigerator and withdrew a dozen ingredients necessary for this particular fine dessert. He hummed tunelessly as he worked, his soft voice fit for Gabriel's choir, even at this volume.]

[servant_of_oz]

Gilbert always the observant one just watched the other man with a curiosity. The wine looked like one they would have at the Nightray house...a high dollar one that Gil still had trouble getting used to drinking. But being polite he decided to take another sip of his own, not drinking for the fine taste but the effect it would have on him.

Though the hummed did make him turn back to look at him.

[hurricanebomber]

Gokudera's come down to the kitchen to cook up some wonderful instant something, because god he can't cook ever. He notices Gilbert and the alcohol and pauses in the process of trying to find something that he can actually prepare with his limited skill.

He won't say anything about the drinking--it doesn't bother him, even if he doesn't really drink himself. And he doesn't think he knows Gil well enough to ask what's going on. Instead, he digs in his pocket and tosses half a pack of cigarettes onto the counter next to him. A book of matches follows.

[servant_of_oz]

Gilbert heard the footsteps and was tempted to look from his glass but opted to lay his head on the cold counter. The wine was already making his face heat up so the contrast of the counter felt good on his heated skin.

Then he saw the cigarettes and knew who it was, sloppily he grabbed the pack lifting his head. "Thanks..."

[hurricanebomber]

Gokudera nods and turns back to looking for food. "You look like shit."

So friendly, Gokudera. It's half a query, though--an indirect way of asking what's wrong.

[servant_of_oz]

"...I feel like shit." There was no way he was going to deny that right now. Every part of his body was screaming and he felt himself sinking lower, but he grabbed a cigarette and stuck a match to light it.

"I hate it..." Taking a long drag.

[captures_captor]

Tomoyo had decided to go investigate the kitchen, still having much to see since arriving. With communication device in hand in case she found something she wanted to record, she made her way to her destination, stopping short in the doorway when she noticed, besides the very nice kitchen, an older man, who looked incredibly upset.

As the curious sort, she gripped the device tighter and slowly and gracefully approached the serious looking man. Looking up at him with large eyes filled with concern, she decided to try cheering him up.

"You look sad. Is there something on your mind?"

[servant_of_oz]

This voice was another new one. Gil slowly looked up to see the kind face looking at him, who was this girl? And could she have chose a worse time to meet him.

"I..." The wine was getting to him and he lazily nodded.

[captures_captor]

As she thought. The little girl didn't seem to mind that she didn't really know this man at all. Of course she was curious, but she was also observant. She could see that what he really needed was someone to show him some sympathy and and an ear.

"I'll listen, if you want to get it off your mind." She offered sweetly.

[servant_of_oz]

"...I really don't want to bother you." Eyes focusing back on the glass in front of him, tapping it lightly.

Gil was raised right and he didn't want to drink in front of the young land.