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"I'm not moving. Your lap is too comfy"
It is fluff month over on Patreon and let me tell you, I don't know if I've ever written Malcolm quite like this and I am OBSESSED. Head on over to Patreon and read the little snippet of him and MC in a fluffy, post dinner moment.
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I would like to see the black-out drunk Malthael, but also trying to operate, enter, and exit a portal while intoxicated. Do angels fly into things when drunk?
He had underestimated the strength of the latest batch of drink he'd brewed. Nothing unusual; everyone did it once or twice. Even the Archangel of Wisdom made mistakes, but he had picked his timing horrendously badly. He was due to be at a meeting with the Council. Flying while inebriated, he knew from past experience, was a dizzying affair more likely to land him in a wall or worse, on someone, thus he passed that thought over. A portal would surely be easy enough to open from the Pools to the council chamber. He'd done it countless times before in various states of sobriety.
Today, however, wasn't looking like a good day for that, either. "Open, you blasted thing," he grumbled, forcing the spellwork through and - unnoticed - mildly messing up. No matter, the portal would drop him somewhere closer to the correct chamber either way. The searingly bright colours were unusual, but he put it down to his increasingly fuzzy head. The alcohol hit his resonance faster than anticipated and he blacked out just as he fell through the portal.
He came round to his siblings stood over him, laid out in the middle of the council chamber floor.
"-quite sure he's hallucinating," Auriel's soothing voice entered his hearing first and he made a soft groaning sound, alerting them to his return to lucidity.
"Brother," Itherael greeted him, keeping their voice down. "Do you remember what you were saying?"
"...No?" He offered hoarsely, questioning silently.
"You arrived several hours past the allotted time-" Malthael made a sound that was brimming with embarrassment and dropped his head back onto the cool marble. "-from a rainbow portal, looking worse for wear and ranting about 'unicorns' and 'stuffed toy bears' attacking you with 'cuddles'. You were quite adamant that we consider them demons and go to war."
That was... He didn't remember a single thing about his trip through the portal. Malthael shuddered and turned onto his side, beginning to ease himself up onto his knees to start with. "Did you listen?" He winced at the rough sound of his voice. That batch of drink he'd made needed to be disposed of. Something was clearly off with it.
Imperius snorted loudly and the eldest flinched at the way it pounded through his whole body, wings twisting in agitation.
"The portal closed before we could investigate, brother," he replied bitterly, offering him a hand. "Make no mistake though, if any of us should encounter such a portal again, the utmost care will be taken when scouting it." Malthael let himself be pulled up and leaned heavily on the golden armoured angel as he was escorted carefully to a seat, his legs barely cooperating. "For now, you should rest and deal with your no doubt unintended hangover."
"Shut up," he grumbled rudely, hearing the mirth in his youngest brother's voice. "You are as a bell next to my head."
"The ringing voice of clarity and reason?" Valor smirked, and Wisdom shook his head - and nearly fell sideways for his trouble.
"An obnoxiously loud din on mine delicate hearing," he muttered balefully. "A gong that makes my resonance throb painfully from how loud you are. Be quiet, Imperius." He pointedly ignored how Tyrael was wheezing with laughter.
No more portals when drunk, he swore to himself.
To clarify on Malthael's current state of "drunk off his ass":
The drink is brewed from a combination of Light and the water from the Gardens. It tends to be left for a few centuries... Give or take... To concentrate and become angelic alcohol before being put in containers to be consumed later. Being that it's brewed with light, it has a particular tendency to get any angel drunk just to start with and then really hit them once the light diffuses into their resonance.
That is to say, Mal's just getting the fun part for now and will be dead to the world once it diffuses.
Malthael, happening to prefer a different flavour and strength to it than his siblings, has his own particular way of adding to the base mix, as most angels do. Nobody knows exactly what it is, and he isn't telling.
(Might be a drop or two of liquid emotion from the Pools, ssshhh)
What he's drunk on right now is from his own stash in his old quarters in Heaven... Which he hasn't been in for probably a millennium or two. It's very strong. And lethal to mortals even in small amounts. And will knock him the fuck out for a good day or two.
The hangover, of course, is on an entirely different level because at least the mortals of Sanctuary aren't entirely light and sound and don't get affected so heavily.
[text Regina]: I'm just that drunk tells people I love them or wants to set them on fire. Accept that. - adragonnomore
adragonnomore
you told the bartender you loved him because he gave you the drink you PAID for and then set his bar on fire when he cut you off because you had just vomited in the middle of said bar…I’m never going out drinking with you again.
i had this open but 4got what i was gonna say im so drunk and my bro in law didnt bring me w**d like he was supposed to like what do i do......
tonight a girl at work said, "i need to ask you smth and plz dont b offended." me: "...."
her: "are you a diva?"
i just laughed and sang beyonce's "diva" the rest of the night
my family gets mad when i call barack obama "michelle's husband" like don't you guys get it she's jackie o for my generation jesus
but srsly get these meth heads out my house i can't deal with speedballin motherfuckers rn
D
Jafar's eyes grew wider to the laughter that spilled out of her. "Err..." What was so funny? Both hands clutched against his staff, his lips sneering up as the laughter echoed around him. There was something he was missing. "Allah, woman. You've gone mad," he mumbled.
She continued to laugh, her arms gripping her sides as if trying to withhold it, but no such luck. Mad, he said? It truly did feel like that... Finally, her laughter slowed and she was able to control it. She glanced up to Jafar, but her eyes were glazed over. She did not wish to speak right now, in fear of what she might say.
I LIKE PIE!
"P-Pie?" The sorceress stumbled over the word, attempting to focus her blurred vision on the anon.
