[Yeah, he spent too much of his meth money on tacky Greco-Roman decor and golden toilets. What a shame.
Soon after their glasses clink together, Saul downs what's left in his glass, slamming it down perhaps a bit heavier than normal on the bar top once he's done. He's not too concerned, really. If anything breaks, it'll probably just get added to his sin list, and he has little motivation now to toe the line and do good and repent and all that. With no Kim to behave for, there's no reason to really try.]
To the best of times, the worst of times, and the new and innovative torture methods they're pioneering down here. Gotta hand it to them. I know it's Hell, but they know what they're doing.
[ Whatever floats his boat to be honest. But it's a damn shame. They could have had something right there but alas ...
For Daisy working off her sins and repenting for them has never seemed feasible to begin with. Her list is simply too long, too daunting to even consider. And back home she's dead, so it's not like she has anything to go back to. ]
You have such a way with words, you know that? [ It's not really unexpected. Lawyers should know how to weasel their way out of a bind using just what's between their ears. But it doesn't make it any less impressive. She takes another gulp of the drink, just focusing on the way it burns as it goes down. ] I would be way more impressed with their whole spiel if they didn't use it on us, to be honest. But I can't exactly blame them. I mean, they are just doing their jobs.
[ At that she nods towards the bartender once more, as if acknowledging his hard work too. The demon makes his way over to her. ] I'm in the mood for a cocktail. How about a Tequila Sunrise? [ She looks at Saul once more, nudging him slightly with an elbow. ] Come on, buddy. Live a little.
You're not the first to tell me that, as I'm sure you're surprised to learn.
[Whether it's for better or for worse that he's cultivated a reputation among the criminal underworld--unintentionally, at first--as "the guy with the mouth," that remains to be seen. But given how everything fell apart for him and that they're both in Hell, it's probably for worse.
He pulls a contemplative face before nodding in a "what the hell, why not" sort of vibe at her suggestion. As long as there's alcohol in it, he's fine with it.]
Sure as hell tastes better than this other stuff. Hey, bartender, you know how to make that?
[If not, Saul himself probably could, but this is about being sad, not about doing a demon's bartending job!]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Soon after their glasses clink together, Saul downs what's left in his glass, slamming it down perhaps a bit heavier than normal on the bar top once he's done. He's not too concerned, really. If anything breaks, it'll probably just get added to his sin list, and he has little motivation now to toe the line and do good and repent and all that. With no Kim to behave for, there's no reason to really try.]
To the best of times, the worst of times, and the new and innovative torture methods they're pioneering down here. Gotta hand it to them. I know it's Hell, but they know what they're doing.
no subject
For Daisy working off her sins and repenting for them has never seemed feasible to begin with. Her list is simply too long, too daunting to even consider. And back home she's dead, so it's not like she has anything to go back to. ]
You have such a way with words, you know that? [ It's not really unexpected. Lawyers should know how to weasel their way out of a bind using just what's between their ears. But it doesn't make it any less impressive. She takes another gulp of the drink, just focusing on the way it burns as it goes down. ] I would be way more impressed with their whole spiel if they didn't use it on us, to be honest. But I can't exactly blame them. I mean, they are just doing their jobs.
[ At that she nods towards the bartender once more, as if acknowledging his hard work too. The demon makes his way over to her. ] I'm in the mood for a cocktail. How about a Tequila Sunrise? [ She looks at Saul once more, nudging him slightly with an elbow. ] Come on, buddy. Live a little.
no subject
[Whether it's for better or for worse that he's cultivated a reputation among the criminal underworld--unintentionally, at first--as "the guy with the mouth," that remains to be seen. But given how everything fell apart for him and that they're both in Hell, it's probably for worse.
He pulls a contemplative face before nodding in a "what the hell, why not" sort of vibe at her suggestion. As long as there's alcohol in it, he's fine with it.]
Sure as hell tastes better than this other stuff. Hey, bartender, you know how to make that?
[If not, Saul himself probably could, but this is about being sad, not about doing a demon's bartending job!]