![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
anthony-crowley.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
dizzy_landCrowley awoke, not in his comfortable bed inside Club 33, but disoriented and hung over on a bench in front of the castle, an empty bottle of rum still clutched in one hand, mouth fuzzy, and head pounding.
"Ngk."
He brought up the other hand to guard his bleary, uncovered eyes from the glaring sun. It took him a moment to realize that there was a great deal more frilly sleeve around his wrist than there should be. Another second later, Crowley ever so cautiously moved his hand down to again discover a mustache and double braided beard.
"Why is the rum always gone?"
It wasn't what he meant to say.
"Ngk."
He brought up the other hand to guard his bleary, uncovered eyes from the glaring sun. It took him a moment to realize that there was a great deal more frilly sleeve around his wrist than there should be. Another second later, Crowley ever so cautiously moved his hand down to again discover a mustache and double braided beard.
"Why is the rum always gone?"
It wasn't what he meant to say.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}