Do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?
Characters: Gabriel and Ruby [Closed]
Location: A hive of scum and villainy.... Or a cantina. Cantina works.
Planet: Coruscant
When: EITHER TWENTY MINUTES BEFORE THE BIKINI CURSE OR TWENTY MINUTES AFTER. WHO KNOWS?
What: An angel masquerading as a Trickster and a demon walk into a bar to discuss assassinating a Hutt... A demon walks out needing new underwear.
Rating: PG-13. There's no Orbit for Gabriel and Ruby's dirty mouths.
[From Gabriel's perspective, shitting where you don't actually sleep was a bad business prospect and maybe taking out one or two Coruscantian... Coruscantii? Whatever. Taking out a few punks from the streets was good for some easy money, but if he was really going to get into the big leagues and work his way up the ladder and finding an existence here that was, at least, comfortable, until he found out how to get back home- and did he really want to go back? Sure, the whole apocalypse thing was a bummer, but if he was as far away from it and Lucifer and Michael's prom dresses were stuck here, it was pretty easy to pretend like it wasn't happening.
So he planned on assassinating a Hutt. Well, he wouldn't say planned. He'd say he damn well intended to. What did one overgrown slug have on the powers of Heaven? ...Never you mind that his powers were a little on the fizzy side, but they functioned well enough to take down that overlarge Corelone wannabe.
Buuut first he had to discuss things with his newfound partner, which was why he was currently sitting in a cantina, sucking back whatever the hell he just ordered- he said the sweetest thing on the menu and boy did he get it- and waiting for the lady to show up.]
Location: A hive of scum and villainy.... Or a cantina. Cantina works.
Planet: Coruscant
When: EITHER TWENTY MINUTES BEFORE THE BIKINI CURSE OR TWENTY MINUTES AFTER. WHO KNOWS?
What: An angel masquerading as a Trickster and a demon walk into a bar to discuss assassinating a Hutt... A demon walks out needing new underwear.
Rating: PG-13. There's no Orbit for Gabriel and Ruby's dirty mouths.
[From Gabriel's perspective, shitting where you don't actually sleep was a bad business prospect and maybe taking out one or two Coruscantian... Coruscantii? Whatever. Taking out a few punks from the streets was good for some easy money, but if he was really going to get into the big leagues and work his way up the ladder and finding an existence here that was, at least, comfortable, until he found out how to get back home- and did he really want to go back? Sure, the whole apocalypse thing was a bummer, but if he was as far away from it and Lucifer and Michael's prom dresses were stuck here, it was pretty easy to pretend like it wasn't happening.
So he planned on assassinating a Hutt. Well, he wouldn't say planned. He'd say he damn well intended to. What did one overgrown slug have on the powers of Heaven? ...Never you mind that his powers were a little on the fizzy side, but they functioned well enough to take down that overlarge Corelone wannabe.
Buuut first he had to discuss things with his newfound partner, which was why he was currently sitting in a cantina, sucking back whatever the hell he just ordered- he said the sweetest thing on the menu and boy did he get it- and waiting for the lady to show up.]