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Hey people.

[The man in the dark shades waved coolly at the screen as he sat on the edge of a small stone fence. It was freezing cold outside but in spite of the clouds that appeared whenever he spoke Crowley didn't seem to notice.]

We've all been brought here, had our powers taken and dolled out to us again in much smaller pieces... it's inconvenient, like being trapped in a baby walker... or trying to save the universe with your hands tied behind your back.

Point is, I need some volunteers who are skilled with Light magic, Healing magic, Animal magic, Kinetic magic and maybe another Elemental magic user who thinks they would be up to controlling sand. Think of it as training.

Also Angel, meet me on the Inn roof before midnight. Not sure it would work with an angel and a demon but if it does we could use some good luck for the new year.

[He doesn't know about the fireworks. Those are going to be a nice surprise.]

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[There's nothing wrong with a little snark.]

My job carries over to this place. Unfortunately, it doesn't pay anything, so I've had to use other means in order to eat something aside from the breakfasts we're provided.

[He shrugs, nonchalant.]

I'm limited in side-jobs, too, thanks to my age. And practically all of them seem to involve dealing with a lot of people during hours I'd normally be using to rest.

[The daytime. He means the daytime.]

You know what a job that doesn't pay anything is called?

[ Its a ripoff, for one. ]

Why not quit? Is there any reason to keep doing a job if you aren't getting anything out of it?

[ And if it was making him as tired as it sounded. ]

[An answer to the first question is on the tip of his tongue before Crowley follows it up with the second and third; a job that doesn't pay anything is a duty. A four-letter word, perhaps, for a demon.

The humorous response never makes it past his lips, caught in silence as the youth stills, all traces of levity falling from his expression.

His gaze is far away.]

...I get something out of it.

[ Duty was definitely a four letter word, some where below Nice but some thing he still tended to avoid when he could anyway.

Then the tone of the room shifted. There seemed to be no real reason for it, a cloud hadn't floated over the sun and the temperature hadn't suddenly dropped, but Crowley knew he had stepped into the middle of something. Should he ask about it? Probably not... it wasn't really any of his business. ]

Staying for tea? Might as well test out the new teapot...

[ And if the kid wanted to say what was up, well, Crowley wouldn't stop him. ]

[The demon won't ask, and Walter won't tell. It is a deeply personal matter, after all.

The change in topic is a welcome one, and he follows it without hesitating, regaining his prior focus as though nothing had happened at all.]

Kettle. You can use it as a pot if you like, but it's good for putting on the stove.

[In comparison to a normal teapot, which one definitely didn't put on the stove unless they wanted to damage it.]

[ Kettle. Crowley looked to the pot now held in his hands and turned it over like it was taking a moment for this new information to sink in. Not much of a chef really, Crowley. ]

Stove, right. I can do that.

[ But first he made his way over to the sink to fill this kettle with water. Replacing the lid he flicked on the stove and set the kettle on top to get all toasty. It might have been faster if he had lit a fire under it, magically, but the stove needed a test run anyway! ]

You better like basic tea. Its all I have here.

I'm from 1944. As long as it's not dirt masquerading as tea I can make do.

[If he can make do with those Yankee cigarettes, he feels like he can deal with just about anything. C'est la vie, with war and rations.]

A simple black tea done well is perfect anyhow.

Ah. I passed through 1944. Should have slept through it...

[ There had been so many grim happenings in 1944. Crowley set about readying a few cups to distract himself from that while the water boiled and soon after that he set the tea in to seep. Not too much longer after that they had a pair of teacups filled with fresh made tea. One of these was handed over to his very first house guest. ]

[As noisy as 1944 has been, he thinks with a touch of humour, could the demon have slept through it even if he wanted? That would be a pretty impressive depth of slumber. Something to rival even his partner.

He takes the offered cup with a bittersweet smile. That asshole partner of his... he's going to have to give him a right earful when he sees him again. Right after he takes care of that damned werewolf.]

Thank you.

[ Having slept through an entire century before napping through a year or two wouldn't have caused him any trouble at all. ]

I'd drink it before you go thanking anyone.

[ He might not like the taste or something. Crowley took a long swig of the tea of his own making and pulled a face when he found it quite weak indeed. More seeping time was needed but maybe his guest liked weak tea. ]

1944 to here. What do you plan to do in Camelot now that you are here?

[Walter likes his tea strong, but he won't complain too terribly. Weak tea is better than scalded tea, which might turn out to be the case with how early the demon put the leaves in after taking the water off the boil. Better to drink it sooner.]

I plan on training with this new magic we've got with combat in mind. I was in the middle of something when I ended up in the lake, and if I end up back there without my original abilities and a weak magic in their place...

[He shrugs, lifting the cup to his lips to take a long sip. The ending to the sentence is easy enough to guess.]

[ There's a certain time to put the leaves in? See... this is why Fell is usually in charge of the refreshments. ]

Eh... whatever magic you had before should return when you go back. Right?

[ He took a sip of his own tea and pulled a face at how odd it tasted. But, it didn't taste badly enough for him not to take another. ]

That's the way these things usually work?

[There is an art to making tea. An art that the demon has... yet to fully master, apparently.

Ironically, it isn't the worst cup Walter has tasted.]

I don't know. It's my first time.

[He takes another quick sip, ignoring the slight bitterness.]

Is there a way it usually works?

I've only been to one other universe. The way it worked there is your old powers returned once your memories did.

[ Which was nothing at all like their current situation and blew his theory right out of the water. ]

Guess it must work differently.

I guess so. I haven't had any gaps in my memory.

[He even arrived with wounds consistent with what he remembered. Wounds that have since been healed, thanks to his friend.]

Either way, I'm not about to rely on luck. My luck is terrible.

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Sorry for the wait! I've been a bit drained lately.

It's cool

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