"Hey, so, I just escaped, I think, from being eaten? Or sold? Anywho, pretty sure I'm about to die, and I don't want to go out like that. And you seem like you know your stuff with drinks and all that! Do you think you could make a drink strong enough to kill me? But nicely? I can give you anything I have! Hell, just loot my body afterwards! I'm sure my phone could sell for a pretty penny! And I don't think it would be bad to go out by having a killer drink and a killer slime to look at!"
[Fem reader. How to rizz a lunatic 101.]
Gallon had been onto you for a while.
In spite of having only one eye at his disposal, the slime's field of vision and keen observational skills have always been one of his most useful attributes. There's hardly a monster in the floor he hasn't noticed and silently categorized. Which means, naturally, a loose human stands out like a sore, bleeding thumb.
In your defense, you're far from stupid. Trying to go as unnoticed as possible in such a big crowd, head hanging low under the hood of a dark jacket and posture reserved while you slink silently past larger figures, studying the smallest of possible openings. Technically, it's part of Gallon's job to report this, if he thinks you're about to escape. But no one's ever said the slime can't entertain himself a little.
Gallon works fluidly, keeping a persistent eye on you.
It's not surprising that you're hurt. Between the cuts and scrapes across your skin, the tear tracks drying on your cheeks and the tense jaw, he can tell you just wrestled your way out of death's maw. Honestly, the mere fact that you're not missing a chunk or a limb is miraculous. You're in great condition, all things considered.
He's not sure what you're thinking, nor does he get much time to theorize, because you suddenly lock eyes.
The bartender makes no secret of his attention, holding the contact for as long as you meet him head on. Although a shiver rattles your form, not an entirely uncommon reaction, you look... Determined.
Curious.
There's no shortage of anticipation and glee when you start walking Gallon's way.
Whatever will you do, realistically? Are you going to beg him for help? Try to wring information out him? You aren't carrying anything except torn clothing, defenseless and disoriented. Nevertheless, the bartender lives for these little instances of unpredictable chaos, the spice of his life, the burning kick to his favorite drinks.
You're allowed to take a seat and present yourself the same way most other customers would. Luck has it that the bar flies have mostly dispersed, disturbed by an obnoxious robot blaring music not too far away, a crowd of riled up monsters singing and hollering- Another thing that's helping you blend in seamlessly.
Gallon watches you lean in, the most befuddling ramble escaping your lips as you seemingly request he... Kill you. Gently. You even throw in a compliment, what a cheeky little thing. Such painfully clear awareness of your situation, paradoxically mixed with a melancholic sense of calm. You're processing your own demise before it even has its clutches upon you.
The slime's grin creeps higher, eery teeth seeming to elongate. An idea twists and twirls in his head, sparking into a scheme.
The monster's head cocks, attempting to study your features through the strategic shade of your hooded garb. Pretty lips attempt to placate him with a polite smile, but he can see the tremble in your eyes all the same. You have an interesting demeanor, he wouldn't mind seeing more of you. In fact, he dare say that you're one of the finer built humans out there, perhaps you're even more of a catch under all that ratty fabric...
" What a request. " He half-chuckles. " I hear you, it must be quite the day you're having. "
As if he didn't have the power to save you, right here, right now.
" Yeah... " Frantic doe eyes flicker every which way whenever someone passes by just a little too close. " The last one. "
Gallon imagines the stress has your throat too tight to drink anything to begin with.
" Relax, dear. " Malformed digits drum on a spotless counter. " You are now, on this one very special occasion, my client. No one will bother you. "
There's a look of cautious gratitude in your features. Like you don't quite believe him.
" Regardless- I think I may have just the thing. Could I interest you in a Hollowed Nectar? "
As expected, the look on your face is blank. A major portion of what he serves are monster-oriented drinks, the likes of which are either unknown to humans, or infamous for causing a variety of strange, oftentimes harmful effects in them.
" S... Sure? "
The slime snickers quietly, spare tendrils lunging to fetch ingredients and utensils behind him, a blur of familiar movement that causes your eyes to widen.
" It's a favorite around here, particularly for slothful folk. Incredibly relaxing, it helps them slip into long, lucid voyages that apparently greatly enhance their natural abilities. " Gallon begins, noting the hint of wonder you let slip. " Also just great to forcibly quell a panicking mind. "
He whips out a black crystal vintage glass, allowing you to stare at it.
His motions are proudly practiced, you can barely glimpse the odd elements that are gathered and sprinkled onto the luxurious glass before it fills with a concoction that gradually takes on a golden hue. The thing almost seems to sparkle, if you squint. The rim of the goblet-like glass is adorned with powdered sugar. It smells faintly of something rich and heavy, like peaches, honey... And caramelized candy?
To him, the drink was prepared in a standard amount of time, to you, it felt like a second passed.
The webbing-etched glass is placed on a purple coaster featuring The Clergy's Eye symbol, slowly edged towards you in its impeccable presentation. This is the type of drink a regular person would photograph and share the likeness of with others. The slime dips an elegant silver spoon into it, barely disturbing the swirl of its contents.
You're mesmerized, silently stroking the bartender's ego.
" Do you know- " He begins, leaning in to steal your attention back. " What makes this lethal to you, cherry? "
Humorously, it's as if his wording reminds you that you're here to die. That he's your personally chosen Grim Reaper, and this isn't just a lonely night in a back alley bar. Perspiration pools on your forehead. Gallon squints with fascination. Not getting cold feet so far, interesting.
" Smells sweet, tastes sweet I assure you, and looks quite pleasant overall... "
Both arms, if you can call those goopy things such, settle on the counter. Three distended 'fingers' stretch like branches, ever so slightly brushing against you.
" But a few little sips is all it takes. You wouldn't even know your life was over right there. You'd get up, head out, and in less than an hour, you'd get so tired. Just so sleepy. All you'd want is to lay down somewhere. "
Suspense hangs in the air. The slime deliberately creates an unsettling pause, only to shatter it as soon as you open your mouth.
" And never get back up. "
There's a shrug from his part. Although speechless, he finds a myriad of emotions flash through your complexion.
" Little ashenwilt flowers around graveyards that didn't quite keep the dead down, you know? The punch of this drink, and a pretty human's death certificate. "
You visibly gulp, nonetheless slowly pulling the drink closer to yourself.
" How's that for a killer slime, cherry? You could even fall asleep in my arms. "
A flicker of humor breaks through your otherwise grim composure for a brief second. " That wouldn't be so bad... " A mutter he's thrilled to hear. " Thank you, sir. "
You're quite the unique gem, he was right.
When you shakily raise a hand to grasp the silver spoon, a yellow tendril bumps you on the shoulder.
" You're very welcome! Now, take that drink to the gentleman in the corner over there, and don't forget to smile. "
He points, subtly, to a demon in a booth seat reading a pamphlet of sorts. Your perplexed grimace is adorable. The monster sets a silver tray before you.
" Go on. We can think about your work outfit later, dear. Try not to shake too much "
Gallon hopes this reads as the mercy it truly is.
There's something in you that captivates him, for whatever reason. Why not make the most of it? Why not test the waters of this feeling, with his new, gorgeous little waitress?
How would the TCE staff act if they found out one of their clients was smitten by them, when they are already in a relationship?
Morell redirects them as smoothly as possible. All it takes is slight persistence for his methods to become a lot less polite. It can and might end with a cleaved skull.
Gallon is humiliating on purpose. "The worst he can say is no"... Hahah, oh boy. The sting of harsh, mocking rejection will drive suitors into shameful depression. Or poison, if they have no dignity.
Grimbly likes getting hit on by others, for the sole reason that he can come crying to you about how "creepy" this stranger was. And how, well, maybe you should remind him who he belongs to. If they become a problem they show up drained like a raisin.
Santi is used to it and cuts ties cold turkey. A job is a job, have his dick for a night but his heart is exclusive. The incubus is threatening and easily prone to varying degrees of violence if met with persistence.
Patches is uncomfortable. This person ignites nothing in him, and there's a million other things he'd rather be doing than have this awkward encounter. The rejection is soft but his response to insistence is acquiring a new guinea pig.
Belo is quick and explicit to state boundaries. Being an angel means he's ready to chide and lecture this person as to why they're Wrong and Bad. Insistence is met with temporary curses.
Nebul completely ignores this person. His aura becomes stifling and they're silently made uncomfortable. Persistence is met with a headache so intense they might pass out.
Fank-e offers a simple "no". He will just start verbally, loudly doxing this person if they insist.
Sybastian is incredibly blunt. He's also just willing to straight out eat this person if they so much as stay near him afterwards.
Krulu allows smitten worshippers to live in that state, but they gain absolutely no fondness from him.
How would your clergy members & the triplets react to the statement: “I have so many ones in my wallet that I might as well start saying I’m a stripper.”
I work customer service at a grocery store. I don’t tend to pay with cash so my wallet looks a little ridiculous because of saved tips but it’s mostly one dollar bills in there.
Morell: "Well I gotta different typa' tip for ya, piglet. " He snorts at his own joke.
Gallon: "It's never too late to learn, cherry." He flicks one of his own tips at you playfully.
Grimbly: "Mommy!" The scandalized look doesn't last. "I think you'd be a great dancer..."
Santi: "Not until you start hooking them on your panties."
Vinnel: "When were you going to notify me I'm a pimp now, poppet?" He pretends to look for ones in your underwear.
Patches: "I'd be broke if you were one." He sighs almost dreamily.
Belo: "Don't say such horrid things, you're a good worker." He's visibly flustered.
Nebul: "Is that an art you would like to be trained in? I rather like our shows as they are."
Fank-e: "do U W4n7 7O kOMp4r3 S4L4R135? :]"
Sybastian: "... Strip tease, for me?" He looks hopeful.
Ludwig: "Oh? That could be a side-gig." He has a shit-eating grin.
Obie: Obie fetches around his wallet. "I have... How much for a show?"
Mervin: "You could have named so many alternatives- It's like you want to be a slut." He places one on your cleavage, grinning.
I, unfortunately an American, have finally turned twenty-one.
I can finally go meet Gallon.
“Excuse me, sir? What do you recommend for a first-time drink?”
This always crack me up because I come from one of the most alcoholic countries ever and have been drinking since I was quite young (this is not a flex I am happy to not be brain damaged).
He will absolutely wreck your shit because this is also hilarious to Gallon. Alternatively, he will slide you a glass of milk and tell you to "go easy on it".
Who takes half a bottle of melatonin to sleep through the entire trip?
Who is trusted as the driver?
Who is hogging all the snacks?
Who starts singing 99 bottles?
Who discovers they have motion sickness?
Who ends up stuffed in the truck because they ran out of seats?
Who gets left behind at a gas station?
Who called shotgun and won?
Who left behind all their bags?
Road trip Au! 🚗🛣
Who takes half a bottle of melatonin to sleep through the entire trip?
No one. They can't. It's impossible to sleep during the trip. If the chatter won't do it then the little tantrums each one of them is bound to make will do it.
In the times where he's not driving, Morell could be trying to doze off, but it's guaranteed he'll start shouting and bitching because someone is making too much noise.
Everyone (who sleeps) is miserable and sleep deprived.
Who is trusted as the driver?
Morell mostly. He's just used to doing long distances more often, thus more reliable not to get distracted. The shroom is a decent driver, though his driving is affected by road rage, to the point where breaks are sometimes necessary.
Nebul would be the next best choice. He has a very safe driving style, and his patience is generally ample, though everyone is always a little wary due to one instance where the wraith got genuinely so irate his mist blasted everyone into a nauseous mess.
Gallon can be trusted, even if he looks weird driving, he just doesn't feel like driving for hours.
Who is hogging all the snacks?
Santi. Doesn't make sense? Of course it does. See, he also has to eat. Want that pack of cheetos? Handjob first. Oh you're thirsty? Tsk, you know he's peckish too.
You can have the snack monopoly, but you'll have to bribe the incubus quite heavily, as any attempts made by others have resulted in the incubus snarling like a wild bear.
Who starts singing 99 bottles?
Fank-e. God if he isn't the most annoying cunt during this trip. They can't even watch a movie on his visor for 10 minutes at a time.
He's the equivalent of having an iPad kid in the car who doesn't understand the concept of volume control. The others are constantly shoving and whining over his bullshit, and the robot doesn't give a single fuck.
Vinnel sometimes encourages Fank-e into hysterical outbursts.
Who discovers they have motion sickness?
Belo. There's something about being stuffed in a vehicle for long periods of time... He's not exactly nauseous but he feels lethargic and his head is pounding. The power is not having a good time.
This results in him ritualistically enforcing breaks, just so he can catch some air and stretch his wings.
Otherwise he is absolutely fighting for a window seat or shotgun.
Who ends up stuffed in the trunk?
Sybastian. To be fair, he's not complaining. The mimic is used to being still for prolonged periods of time, and while he can't effectively doze off, he's doing fine so long as he has something to chew on and can occasionally peek out, crawl around the vehicle.
He does stuff himself inside regardless of anyone's comfort from time to time. And if anyone bothers him too much about it, Syb will physically attempt to stuff them into the trunk.
Who gets left behind at a gas station?
It could be several ones here.
Grimbly, for starters, especially if he's taking far too long to buy snacks and, god forbid, falls for the gas station sushi.
Santi, if he's trying to fuck anyone present at the gas station.
Patches, if he's wandering off collecting weird shady samples or it's late enough for Stitches to take over.
They wish they could lose Fank-e but it's quite impossible. He's the GPS, after all.
Who called shotgun and won?
You.
Do not lose that privilege. Guard it with your life if you must.
Who left behind all their bags?
Syb. What bags??? He brought his lanky mimic ass to the trip. No money no phone no troubles, just a fart in the wind there to inconvenience everyone.
Grimbly. He may not exactly be in the greatest danger, but he did trail off around half an hour ago and has been running around panicked like a stupid animal. He'll tire himself out and probably sleep on a tree for the first night, if no one comes looking for him.
The most likely outcome is that Morell will find him after moving away from the tents to set up traps.
Who stays in the tent the entire time?
No one truly stays in the tents the whole time, but Santi is typically the one who remains inside the longest.
There's no one to fuck out here except his own coworkers! And most of the time they don't even let him touch them. He relies on you for food mostly, so the incubus decides to preserve his energy. Santi isn't exactly in a bad mood, he's just cautious.
In great contrast, Nebul, Morell, Belo and Patches are usually out there for most of the day.
Who eats a poisonous berry?
Also Grimbly. Lover of fruit but uninformed fool that he is, he was bound to put something in his mouth- Especially with Gallon's mildly psychopathic encouragement. It's just a berry, he probably mixes those with his drinks already (he does not)...
It's not a life-threatening situation, as Grimbly can filter poisons pretty well, but he has a bad time for a while until Patches successfully diagnoses his stupidity.
Patches and Morell have the most knowledge on what is or isn't poisonous inside the forest. Gallon is well informed by mostly an opp.
Who becomes one with nature?
Nebul, surprisingly.
He's standing in the middle of nowhere for prolonged periods of time simply to watch the wildlife. Nebul also just enjoys the silence. He may be dead, but the wraith believes there's something to be gained by communing with nature and what it has to offer. Having no real need for sleep either, he may stand outside at night doing the exact same thing.
Although Sybastian is the guy that no doubt would survive the longest in a forest-like context, he does appreciate the commodities of tents and artificial heat, enough that he's not as interested as some others may be with nature.
Who gets jumped by the local wildlife?
Fank-e is a candidate here. He's loud, unknowable to the average animal, and generally a frightening, bizarre presence that's bound to throw some wildlife into fight rather than flight.
Santi typically doesn't commune much with wildlife, and most non-infernal wildlife steers clear from him. The unintentional effect he can at times have in animals is throw them into hormonal fits, which will more than likely cause territorial aggression. He's not fond of these instances.
Vinnel would be in more danger if he didn't have the ability to float upwards, away from strikes.
Belo, on the other hand, is like the unrequited whisperer of the crew. Animals flock to him. He's a Disney princess. Can hardly patrol without something crawling on him or trying to take a patch of his fur for its nest.
Who just walks back to the car?
Oh Gallon tried.
He's not a big fan of being in constant contact with dirt and mud and plants and bugs and everything and every texture that makes his slime tremble. He's not having the best time and seems to be constantly walking on the slime equivalent of his toes. He copes with his frustration by putting his coworkers in mild to severe amounts of danger.
More details:
Krulu may fully manifest independently, doing so to manually adjust parts of the forest and/or retrieve Clergy members. His presence frightens wildlife away and creates an unsettling quiet for a long while;
Morell is still in charge of cooking, even if that cooking is just meat from his catches and snacks sometimes. He sulked about not being allowed to take half the kitchen with him;
Stitches has taken over more times than usual in this environment, his shenanigans usually rob the others of sleep;
When Santi is particularly hungry but not having any luck, he'll eat actual food out of boredom and coping;
Everyone wants in on your tent frequently, and you might have to rotate- Santi gets more time because he does need to eat regularly, something he flexes about;
Some of the staff has taken some bobbles with them for convenience. They've presumably never been to a forest before, so it's mildly entertaining watching them explore.
who among your ocs would be the most likely to spit in my drink without me knowing and then give it to me?
TW: Drink spiking??
Gallon. He does it because he can. Because it's a rush of power really. Because he can slide anything into your drink and you'd never know any better. There's a sharpness to his eye as you drink innocently.
Santi. Call it opportunism, he thinks you just need to let loose a little, au naturel. Likewise, Lacai can do this too.
Mooncalf. Many are the reasons you should usually reject the food and drink of fae-types. Sometimes the ingredients themselves are atypical to the human diet, sometimes they're just freaks about it.
Shags. For similar reasons to Gallon, he's also generally just grossly poetic about the whole idea.
