[ She makes a sympathetic face, accepting the coffee and taking a fortifying sip. That rush of caffeine to her system has always felt incredible. Ellever still isn't sure if that's her human side or the Other side that responds so strongly. She's never had the occasion to ask her cousins if they, too, adore caffeine. ]
Thanks. ...It's good. Zero complaints here.
[ All of Beacon has the same substandard coffee, so hey, if he wants to talk it up, she won't take that away from him. They don't have a lot as it is. Just some lanterns, spirits, and an eclectic group of buildings that would look at home in a Tim Burton movie. ]
Do you, like me, prescribe to the idea that the next day doesn't start until you've slept? Or are you a 'midnight is the start of a new day' type?
[ Asking someone the reason they haven't slept is deeply personal. She figures they're not there yet. Might as well poke around with some lighthearted fare. ]
( he looks pleased with her response, so he takes a sip of his own cup, shrugging lightly at the question she poses. )
Well, my dad was a real hardass, raised us on military time, so unless we were on a hunt, we were supposed to be in bed before oh-hundred hours or there'd be serious hell to pay.
( not that john was ever around that often to enforce this rule, but still. it's been drilled into dean's head since he was four. )
Looking back, I think he was just trying to protect us from the crazy shit that can go down during the witching hour.
( though most of the motels they stayed in as kids were never haunted or cursed, just shitty. he sets his cup down on the kitchen table after downing the rest of his coffee, turning to the stove where he's already heated up a cast iron skillet. he managed to find butter and eggs at the general store, so he's cooking this morning, too. he drops a few tablespoons of butter into the pan with a knife, then looks over his shoulder to elle while it melts. )
Oh, that'sā you don't have to make me anything. I can manage.
[ Making her coffee is, already, more than she's used to getting from a roommate. Not that she holds anything against Castiel, but he doesn't need to eat and mostly used his room as a home base more than anything. Ellever sits down at the table, taking another long and fortifying sip from her chipped mug. ]
That doesn't sound like much fun. My dad was a cop, but he resigned when he adopted me and I never had a bedtime or anything. He was too much of a hippie for that. [ She says it fondly, the corners of her lips curled upward. ] I became a night owl pretty quickly.
[ The nighttime became her active hours, mostly full of reading. When the truth of her lineage had come out later, Ellever had wondered how she hadn't caught on sooner. She always was more comfortable when it was dark out. But the dark of Beacon is different; it lacks that comforting and homely quality. ]
I'm still not okay with this all-dark, all-the-time thing, though. No wonder the Northern countries shine big lamps in town squares to give people some fake sunlight.
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Thanks. ...It's good. Zero complaints here.
[ All of Beacon has the same substandard coffee, so hey, if he wants to talk it up, she won't take that away from him. They don't have a lot as it is. Just some lanterns, spirits, and an eclectic group of buildings that would look at home in a Tim Burton movie. ]
Do you, like me, prescribe to the idea that the next day doesn't start until you've slept? Or are you a 'midnight is the start of a new day' type?
[ Asking someone the reason they haven't slept is deeply personal. She figures they're not there yet. Might as well poke around with some lighthearted fare. ]
no subject
Well, my dad was a real hardass, raised us on military time, so unless we were on a hunt, we were supposed to be in bed before oh-hundred hours or there'd be serious hell to pay.
( not that john was ever around that often to enforce this rule, but still. it's been drilled into dean's head since he was four. )
Looking back, I think he was just trying to protect us from the crazy shit that can go down during the witching hour.
( though most of the motels they stayed in as kids were never haunted or cursed, just shitty. he sets his cup down on the kitchen table after downing the rest of his coffee, turning to the stove where he's already heated up a cast iron skillet. he managed to find butter and eggs at the general store, so he's cooking this morning, too. he drops a few tablespoons of butter into the pan with a knife, then looks over his shoulder to elle while it melts. )
How do you like your eggs?
no subject
[ Making her coffee is, already, more than she's used to getting from a roommate. Not that she holds anything against Castiel, but he doesn't need to eat and mostly used his room as a home base more than anything. Ellever sits down at the table, taking another long and fortifying sip from her chipped mug. ]
That doesn't sound like much fun. My dad was a cop, but he resigned when he adopted me and I never had a bedtime or anything. He was too much of a hippie for that. [ She says it fondly, the corners of her lips curled upward. ] I became a night owl pretty quickly.
[ The nighttime became her active hours, mostly full of reading. When the truth of her lineage had come out later, Ellever had wondered how she hadn't caught on sooner. She always was more comfortable when it was dark out. But the dark of Beacon is different; it lacks that comforting and homely quality. ]
I'm still not okay with this all-dark, all-the-time thing, though. No wonder the Northern countries shine big lamps in town squares to give people some fake sunlight.