[ Squalo will be genuinely impressed when he realizes this was Tony's effort and not just the inherent spottiness of Hellnet flickering on and off. In the meantime, he makes a face, because he's pretty damn sure he's being called an elf and that's just fucking lame. ]
Medieval sucks. City life's where it's at. And I'm not some fuckin' fairy.
Hey, everyone here 's a demon. Except for the fucking transfers. [ he mimics little wings and everything. so expressive. ] But I sure fit in better than most.
[ or will be, once Squalo decides whether or not that smugness is warranted. ]
[ for now, there's an appreciative snort of amusement. still, as pleasant as this conversation is going so far, there's no need to immediately tell everyone what you did in life. after all, Hell had all sorts of residents from serial killers to the guy that stole bread that one time to feed his starving sibling or something. ]
Uh, weapons manufacturing, war profiteering, indirect and direct murder...does Blue Sky care about alcoholism and rampant promiscuity? I don't feel like I should be Hell-bound for those two, if God's not real anymore.
Good Omens. It's a book. You've never read it? Bumbling angel-and-demon combo try to stop the apocalypse, mostly end up reading books and driving around?
[ Because he sure hasn't been getting any reaping job alerts for ages. Pretty sure this town has been completely abandoned. So how is it someone has clearly just got here? ]
Maybe the screen is smudged...no, she's still pretty. And he's not entirely an asshole, he recognizes that she's trying, and trying gentles a little of his current, acerbic snap. ]
I've heard that one, too. I don't think the guy who penned it considered something like this.
[Oh, he's going along with her pathetic attempts to socialize. She appreciates that, and smiles.]
No, I'm sure he didn't. There's not many men who would consider the possibility of the afterlife existing in this capacity. I promise it's really not all that terrible here. There's some good people to be found.
[She averts her eyes and tries to look marginally more comfortable with a man calling her good. She's not sure she's ever been called that before, apart from Anna or Emma Swan.]
Well as the first person to formally extend the offer, I'm afraid I have to insist on you introducing yourself before we meet face to face.
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[ aaaand here's a connection lost error message ]
[ WELCOME TO HELL. ]
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Fortunately for Squalo, this is Tony Stark, Hell or no, and after some tremendously aggravating fiddling on his end...
Well, the video is potato-quality as FUCK but it's working, Hallelujah or Hail Satan, whatever. ]
Tchyeah, what I thought, Elf Quest, was something more medieval. This is just Skid Row during a heatwave, with half the stench.
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[ Squalo will be genuinely impressed when he realizes this was Tony's effort and not just the inherent spottiness of Hellnet flickering on and off. In the meantime, he makes a face, because he's pretty damn sure he's being called an elf and that's just fucking lame. ]
Medieval sucks. City life's where it's at. And I'm not some fuckin' fairy.
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What's your name then, Sugar Plum?
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Squalo.
[ It sounds both as an introduction and a correction. It was weird enough when the Targaryen girl thought he was her long lost cousin. ]
And you would be?
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Tony Stark. So, Squalo, are you demon, or just dead and damned?
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[ reminds him of home a little bit ]
Hey, everyone here 's a demon. Except for the fucking transfers. [ he mimics little wings and everything. so expressive. ] But I sure fit in better than most.
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[ He will be gd smug about something in this literal Hellhole ]
Transfers...oh, yeah. Goody-two-shoes. [ He is also not jealous of the wing-and-halo contingent, not at all. ] What are you in for?
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[ or will be, once Squalo decides whether or not that smugness is warranted. ]
[ for now, there's an appreciative snort of amusement. still, as pleasant as this conversation is going so far, there's no need to immediately tell everyone what you did in life. after all, Hell had all sorts of residents from serial killers to the guy that stole bread that one time to feed his starving sibling or something. ]
Oh, you know. Sinning.
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[ dismissive little gesture, but let that sink in for a moment... ]
...I also clearly have no way of not welching on it now, I guess. You got me.
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Sucks to be you. But I'm sure they'll forgive you, as you're dead. Sorry about that.
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Or is that incest?
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That other shit? That probably does.
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[ he. he was being sarcastic out of self-preservation. here's the most important part he focuses on: ]
Huh. God was voted out?
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[ He hasn't pegged you yet, bro, he's just being him. ]
I mean, you hear the jokes, but you never think there's truth to them.
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[ shrugs, spreading his hands helplessly. ] Good Omens kinda' had it right.
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[ not about that, k ]
Before that, Jesus, really? Are you my first cult leader?
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[Video]
[ Because he sure hasn't been getting any reaping job alerts for ages. Pretty sure this town has been completely abandoned. So how is it someone has clearly just got here? ]
I'm sorry about him
[ Snap snap snaps his fingers at the camera, stay with him now, this isn't hard. ]
There were pamphlets. Oh, you mean before that. Los Angeles, on a rooftop.
It's all good, Gin's used to it.
And if you ask me, it's fine if we keep it that way.
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[ Bluntly, ]
I hadn't, but now that you mention it, why?
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[ SEVERAL SECONDS LONG PAUSE. ]
Whatever it was that happened.
[ What actually happened? ]
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...what's Wyefie?
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And I'd wondered how our devices could just do that without the whole WEEEEOOOOuuurggghHHH! thing. Truly 2001 is a year of wonders.
[He does a pretty good job at imitating a modem.]
logic what logic we don't need no stinking logic
[Not that she knows what wifi is. She doesn't even know what this video screen thing is, aside from Useful, If Disconcerting.]
Or good alcohol. Haven't found any of that either.
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[ That sounded downright optimistic, how? ]
But you've found alcohol and haven't shared. I'm hurt.
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[Someone sounds a bit cynical. She'd love to be wrong, mind.]
I don't hate you enough to share that dreck with you, believe me. You'd be better off drinking paint. Who are you, by the way?
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[Elsa isn't very good at small talk, and is even worse at gentle teasing. She's trying to do both right now. And is failing.]
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Maybe the screen is smudged...no, she's still pretty. And he's not entirely an asshole, he recognizes that she's trying, and trying gentles a little of his current, acerbic snap. ]
I've heard that one, too. I don't think the guy who penned it considered something like this.
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No, I'm sure he didn't. There's not many men who would consider the possibility of the afterlife existing in this capacity. I promise it's really not all that terrible here. There's some good people to be found.
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Like yourself? Got a name, Gorgeous?
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He's making her nervous because he's handsome and being flattering and she's easy to fluster.]
Queen Elsa of Arendelle, but please, just call me Elsa. I'm not sure how good of a person I am, but I'd love to give you a tour of the city.
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That's all the more reason to keep it up, her nervousness telegraphed easily via video. A Queen though, hm? ]
Well, Elsa, you're the first person to make that offer. Pretty sure you can file that under "Good".
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Well as the first person to formally extend the offer, I'm afraid I have to insist on you introducing yourself before we meet face to face.