deadbydawn | ryslig inbox

yes youre speaking to the proprietary creator of pink fuck

one of them, at least, the other guy fortunately isnt in this hellhole

what can i do for you? ;)

Cheeky. You only get that sort of proposition if you're a very good boy.

It's a business proposal. Bottling something with ketamine in it PROBABLY won't make a lot of the Bavanites happy, but have you ever considered entering the proud and noble field of bootleg bathtub moonshine?

oh i dont know if i can promise that

ive been told that im a pretty bad boy ;)

anyways im picking up what youre puttin down. this ass-backwards continent wouldnt know a REAL party if one farted in its face

maybe we can fix that with some wider distribution

Oh, I'll be the judge of that, sugar. ;)

I'm proposing something that kicks just as hard but without the stupid god awful hassle of cops getting mad we're selling something to liven up the humans

i can probably even rope some minotaurs into tasting it for us

can market it to the humans as like "it'll put hair on your chest"

and to people who don't like hair we can like. say it'll make them smoother than smooth n just put them in bottles with different label colours

hey you know whod probably be down for this? that trapper guy. the big beefy boy

he swung around to field the pink fuck when i first suggested it for the halloween party

we'll call it

tonic juice

or something. i dunno

anyways what say you come over and take a gander at my stock. ive kind of been collecting shit for months in case something like this were to actually happen

also in case my body was ever given back so i can finally drink on my own volition. it came in handy when i turned into a troll briefly

Oh, exactly the minotaur I was thinking of. The other was DJ Dupree, a strapping young man who probably won't mind a little alcohol poisoning between friends.

uhhh

potion. for your health

health potion? [No, Reverie. ]

give me an address and i can come by, we can like. experiment or whatever

we'll workshop it

anyways swing by 43b cemetary drive ;) ill see what i can dig up

ill see if dj'll be into this too

[Although the creature that turns up at Ash's house arrives in the form of a large, flying fox, it soon resolves itself into the ghostly white form of Reverie, dressed in his usual silks and golds. Any hint of excitement about arriving, however, is soon put out when he sees the state of the home of the shade known as Ash Williams.]

[When Ash eventually finds him, having comfortably slipped through the cracks in the door as mist, he's distastefully examining the state of what might once have been a nice room.]

You've made yourself at home.

[The tone is withering.]

Did your parents raise you among filth, or is that a personal choice reflecting some deep unresolved issue?

[Ash slinks out from the darkness, barely more than a man-shaped shadow. The edges of his form sway with red and cyan, making it difficult to look at him for more than a few minutes at a time. His eyes glow white as he casts his gaze on the glittery vampire.

Jesus, this guy dressed up for the occasion. He feels vaguely incompetent with his own button-up and plain pants--not that Reverie would be able to see unless Ash focused on keeping a slightly more solid form. Ash scowls lightly, the static surrounding his form briefly spiking up.]

Hey, last I checked, ghosts don't need fancy furniture or...intact windows or anything. [He says, a bit too quickly and a little too defensive.] You ever heard of a haunted house?

[He turns his attention away, trying to focus on the task before them. With a single arm, he gestures towards a nearby loose floorboard that seems to have been placed back in a very sloppy manner.]

Anyways, all the shit I've been collecting is down there. I've mostly just been taking it from liquor stores whenever I'm in town, but the hard shit--that's from a few connections in town. They like not havin' their souls munched in exchange for drugs. And, also, I get to munch people's souls who think they can steal from them.

Yes, I have. [Your defensive tone is noted, and filed away for smug enjoyment.] Most of them don't boast the sort of filth accrued from not properly disposing of kills and do, in fact, have intact furniture, if they're ghosts worth their salt in bullying interlopers and trespassers.

[He's saying you're shit at your job, Ash.]

I'd propose using a bathtub as a means of mixing - but something tells me you also don't clean your bathroom.

[It's said very much with the air of "and I bet you have a mattress on the floor". The Bachelor Pad accusation.]

For your information, I don't kill people. I just...you know....

[Swallows their souls? He makes a vague, kind of lame gesture as he turns his attention towards the stuff under the floorboards.]

And ghosts don't need to take baths, so that bathtub is completely untouched. It's as clean as the day that I took over this place. The guy who lived in this place was an absolute freak when it came to cleaning.

[This is kind of a lie--he doesn't know the state of his bathroom, simply because he hasn't set foot in it. Ever since becoming a shade, he's been trying to avoid looking at his reflection. That would mean having to confront how much he's changed, and shatter the idea that he still looks as handsome as he was before.]

The bath plug might need to be pried off, though. It, uh...hasn't been removed for a while. I don't think we're particularly concerned about draining this shit, though.

What do you think happens to them when you're done?

[Putting it mildly - but once the soul is gone and just a husk remains... Is that person not dead, Ash?

Or is that a question too close to the bone to consider?]

Ghosts definitely need showers, at the very least. [Hint hint.] We won't need to drain anything, but... Sterilising it probably won't go amiss? We can like... Call it a feature. 'Medical grade' or whatever.

[Ash doesn't answer the first question. He has a hell of a lesson to learn later with Phil. With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and shrugs.]

Alright, alright. This sure as hell isn't gonna be FDA approved--not that it was in the first place--but there's some Everclear under the floorboards. We could use that.

[A pause.]

Though, uh, I'm a little challenged tangibility-wise, so you might have to do most of the cleaning.

[He's hoping Rev won't mention the clearly very tangible metal arm.]

[He looks pointedly at his hand.

Sure. He can clean.

He has a lighter, after all.]

I don't think you'll like my methods. I'm very intent.

[Ash. He'll burn the hose down.]

[Ash stares towards Rev. Somehow, he understands the inherent threat in those words. With a sigh, he crosses his arms.]

Alright, I guess I can put in a little elbow grease and help clean the bathtub. [He says this as if this some sort of arduous task.] Bring the rest of the stuff. We'll start mixin' once we've got an appropriate receptacle.

[And off he floats towards the bathroom, trying to ignore Reverie's judgemental eyes. Stupid fancy jerk with his silken robes, waltzing in here and expecting to be treated like royalty. Ash is the king here, and he doesn't deserved to be treated like scum--never mind the lack of care towards his home and himself.]

Good boy.

[Unlike you he is royalty, Ash. And cleans his own apartment. He gathers the materials while Ash makes the cleaning effort, and they're soon both stood over the clean tub. Reverie rubs at his chin.]

You know.... Keeping it purely alcohol based might be a great idea. Alcohol doesn't go off, right?

Not unless you want it to.

[Ash squints at the newly cleaned bathtub, inspecting his slightly shinier gauntlet as he does so. It occurs to him that he does need to clean this at some point--the metal keeps getting tarnished with time, and if the springs get too tarnished, they might end up getting weakened and snap.

Not that it matters, really. The arm moves regardless of whether or not it's hooked up properly, thanks to magic. He shakes his head, focusing on the assortment of bottles laid before him.]

I recently snatched a bottle of cherry-flavored rum--maybe we can start with that as a base, see where we wanna go from there. Maybe it real festive, y'know?

[He rubs his chin thoughtfully.]

Cherry based would be perfect. Like that fancy cherry shit they put in cakes here. [He means kirsch.] Perhaps... Oh, I do have some edible glitter, actually. That's festive.

[Although it's too baggies he pulls out of his pocket.]

I also have some cocaine.

[Cocaine. Now that's an idea. Ash's eyes seem to brighten as he stares at the bags, a horrible grin spreading across his face.]

Hey--I just got an idea. Y'know how, like, old-school Coca-Cola used to have cocaine in it? Same with cough syrup and shit, that kinda thing. [Rev surely doesn't, but Ash doesn't care.] What if we pitched this as a sorta...pick me up? For partyin' and daily use. That way, we can sell even more and make even more.

[A pause.]

For medicinal purposes, of course.

Like... An energy tonic?

[He pops the bag with a talon, pouring it into the bath so they can get it mixed through.]

That's brilliant. You're a genius. We'll of course have to have all the disclaimers on the bottle. Can't have some fool blaming us for not being able to handle their cocaine.

Oh, yeah, duh. Gotta tell the people what they're gettin' into. If they try it and complain, that's their own fault.

[Why didn't he think about this before? Probably 'cus trying to purposely sell Pink Fuck back in Michigan would've gotten him in more legal trouble than he would've been bothered to deal with, and also because when you put a price tag on party jungle juice, less people come to said parties.

Ash leans over the bathtub, tapping a finger against his chin in thought. He kneels down, picking up a bottle of grenadine, a jug of what looks to be agave nectar, and a small container of ground cinnamon. He proceeds to pours it all into the receptacle.

A sickly sweet, alcoholic smell fills the air.]

That should give it an extra kick. You gonna taste it, or what?

[Oh, now that smells like the parties the drow throw. Less of the copper tang of blood, but there's that sticky bad decisions and 'oh god where have I woken up' smell. Okay. That's a much better idea.

Reverie extends a hand to Ash.]

You think you're getting out of trying it that easy? Come on.

[Ash rolls his eyes, stretching his neck from side to side as he prepares himself. He unbuckles the straps of his gauntlet, setting it off to the side. Can't have solid material on him while he's trying to possess someone.]

Alright. Don't freak out too bad, alright? Last time I tried this on a human chick, she nearly had a panic attack and I had to bail early.

[To be fair, she was the one who had agreed to it, but soon realized it wasn't for her. Ash reaches out with his left hand and grabs Rev's wrist, his form blurring further into static and scan lines until he's nothing more than a fuzzy, man-shaped blob. Rev might feel his arms and legs prickle with a sensation that borders on painful, as if his limbs are falling asleep.

Ash's form completely disappears. Reverie will feel his limbs lock up, his physical body now out of his control. The tingling dissipates as Rev's limbs seem to move on their own, with Ash inspecting the man's claws and kicking his legs to test them.]

Jesus, didn't think five inches would've made that much of a difference. How do you not get dizzy from up here?

[It might be a little jarring to hear Rev's voice in Ash's cadence.]

[Hells. The sensation is unpleasant. It feels completely wrong and intrusive, compared to being the one doing it. The sensation of losing control send a prickle of panic through him that he has to force back.]

'M only 6'6". Not that tall.

[There's another flutter of panic when Ash moves his hands.]

Get on w'it.

[Rev's body feels cold--a genuine, corpse-like chill that seems to permeate his very bones. It's always a clumsy affair to adjust to a new body, like trying on a costume that doesn't quite fit. But Ash can make it work. Ash peers over the edge of the tub, nearly tipping too far forward and falling face-first. He catches himself against the edge just in time. The smell of artificial cherry and fruit flavors overwhelms him. His nose wrinkled, Ash picks up a dusty glass from the ground, gingerly wipes it down, then uses it to scoop up a small helping of the vile concoction before him.

There's a brief pause as he considers the contents of his glass. A lopsided, almost manic grin stretches across his face.]

Bottoms up, bitch!

[He takes a large swig. Immediately, there's the taste of the cherry rum, followed by the burning sensation of the alcohol and cinnamon at the back of his throat. It's tooth-achingly sweet, enough to make Ash almost gag. Almost--but he's stomached worse in his time.]

Jesus Christ--

[The aftertaste is horrible, an awful bitterness that leaves his tongue parched. His instinct is to immediately take another swig of the drink to wash it out. After a few moments, he says, very quietly--]

I think we need more cocaine.

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cw drugs

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cw drugs but i have to swipe out half the shit it does bc he's dead

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ASH WILLIAMS. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 05.22.09.12 * ASH WILLIAMS has joined 05.22.09.12 <boomstick69> you've reached the private inbox of the king himself, ashley j. williams ;) <boomstick69>** state your name and business and i'll see if i decide to get back to you