I'm just here to talk about stuff that I like, maybe meet some cool people, and just hang out. I like anime and manga, Doctor Who, video games... All kinds of things.
“So…” And zir voice was annoyed, moreso than usual, as ze raised an eyebrow and looked over at the former Junior who has just plopped down in the extra chair in zir little cubicle. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me that Will wants to take me with him after all?”
Eric laughed, pulling a flask out of scythespace and taking a sip. “Nah, sorry, Red. Will’s headin’ out on his own, an’ I think Ronald’s standin’ by to be backup. Yer still office-bound.”
Grell huffed, tapping zir foot irritably. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he hadn’t taken my office away too!” After the little…adventure of being Jack the Ripper, William had demoted zir so far that ze didn’t even have zir own office anymore, just a tiny cubicle in the corner of the main workroom. It was awful to know that zir former mentee had his own office and ze didn’t.
Passing zir the flask, Eric continued to grin. “Ah, cheer up, Grelly. Maybe th’ workload’ll get too big an’ he’ll call ya in t’ help.”
“I hope so! This is exactly the sort of thing Sebas-chan and his little brat would be investigating!” Grell said happily. “But he’s more likely to call you or Harold in first, right? Even Alan’s ranked over me at this point.”
“Eh, we’ve got our own cases t’ handle. Even Alan’s got souls up t’ his ears t’ collect. Yer just fillin’ out reports, an’ that’s somethin’ that can be put off if there’s more deaths than expected while we’re shorthanded. He’d pick ya over some greenie Junior, that’s f’r sure.” The blond reaper leaned in conspiratorially. “But jus’ in case he doesn’, I’ll try t’ get a picture of him f’r ya.”
Grell blinked. “A picture?” ze asked, confused. “Why do I need a picture?”
Eric winked. “He’s investigatin’ a circus. Y’shoulda seen the getup he was packin’.” But then he shrugged. “Not that I actually saw it, but Alan was droppin’ off some papers an’ caught a glimpse. He said somethin’ abou’ purple pants an’ a glittery yellow jacket.”
“Will? My Will? Plain-black-suit-and-tie Will, in colors and glitter?” Grell scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”
“We could make a bet?” the Scotsman offered.
“…what kind of bet?”
“I’ll take ya t’ dinner. Wherever ya want, on me, if ya win an’ he’s not wearing that monstrosity.”
Grell considered. “And if you win?”
“Yer buyin’ me a month’s supply o’ whiskey.” Eric held out a hand. “Shake on it?”
“You’re on, Mr. Slingby.” Ze shook his hand firmly. “But you better be prepared to pay up!”
“We’ll see, Red.” He was going to get plenty of whiskey out of this one. Now it was just a matter of getting a picture without Will noticing. Maybe he’d get Alan to distract him. Oh, the possibilities…
Oh gosh I am so pumped I want to write and subtitle and draw and just generally flail at everything asldkfjasldflkdjf