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Last night had been quite nice. Samael had almost forgotten about the stupid bloody prank or how he still couldn't bloody well fly out of here - Michael was going to get one massive wedgie when he made it out of here - and he'd happily collapsed into the soft bed he kept finding himself drawn to.
But now he was awake, and sitting up. And for the first time, he noticed the bar. And the piano.
"That other place had those," he muttered to himself, pushing away to go poke at bottles. Try things from bottles. Take a bottle with him to the big piano and start poking merrily at the keys, trying to reproduce some of the things he'd heard yesterday.
Keeping himself entertained while he was stuck here, instead of spitting obscenities was clearly the best revenge he could possibly have on Michael.
[[ for anyone who has a reason to be here! ]]
But now he was awake, and sitting up. And for the first time, he noticed the bar. And the piano.
"That other place had those," he muttered to himself, pushing away to go poke at bottles. Try things from bottles. Take a bottle with him to the big piano and start poking merrily at the keys, trying to reproduce some of the things he'd heard yesterday.
Keeping himself entertained while he was stuck here, instead of spitting obscenities was clearly the best revenge he could possibly have on Michael.
[[ for anyone who has a reason to be here! ]]
