text; broken head and the stars are spinning

[mimic]

Anyone else having trouble sleeping lately? [ He's tried counting sheep. He counted up to a hundred thousand before deciding he should quit it. Peter's hoping that some random conversations via text will help get his mind off... well, everything.

He just can't seem to relax. One thought leads to another leads to another. It's a constant stream of noise made worse by this ability to hear people's thoughts. It's a jumble of words that don't make sense and he can't seem to shut that off. ]

Comments

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Not at all, and I don't even need to do it.

[mimic]

You don't need sleep? [ Why is that, Crowley? Why is that? You can't dangle a worm at him and not expect him to at least... swipe at it. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Nope. I'm fond of it, though, so I can't say I don't see the appeal.

[mimic]

But you can't not sleep. That's impossible. [ He hasn't slept a wink in 48 hours and already he can't walk straight. In fact, he bumped his head on the door just going to the bathroom earlier. :\ ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

What makes you say that? The assumption that everyone is the same as you is very narrow-minded.

[mimic]

So tell me. What exactly are you? [ He's curious to know now. What looks like a human, but doesn't need sleep? ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

How about this. I'll let you ask me three yes or no questions, and we'll see if you can guess.

[mimic]

[ Crowley's helping him keep his mind off things so he'll play this little guessing game. He's too tired to argue anyways. ]

Are you an alien who has caffeine running through his system? [ What? It's entirely possible. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

[Snort.]

No.

[mimic]

A ghost with a tragic past who -- back when he was still alive slept his way through most of his life and now he's paying for it. [ He's got quite the imagination, okay? ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

[Wow, Pettrelli, you should write a book.]

No, but nice imagination.

[mimic]

[ You should see his sketchbook. ] You're some kind of cursed, I guess. I don't know. [ What he would do for a decent night's sleep. Seriously. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

[... ouch.]

That's really nothing to do with the sleep thing, I just hung around with the wrong people.

[mimic]

But you are cursed? [ Now he feels bad. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Some people might think so. Personally, I don't. It's a matter of perspective.

[mimic]

Are you really going to keep me guessing?

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

I thought you wanted a distraction.

[mimic]

I wanted to distract myself from thinking too much. [ Now you've got the wheels spinning in his head again. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

I don't think telling you what I actually am is going to help you with that.

[mimic]

Too late for that now. But don't worry about it. I'm sorry you're cursed. [ He's concerned. That's all. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

[AGH.]

For Someone's sake, don't do that. You'll make my skin crawl.

[mimic]

What did I do?

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Don't be SORRY for me.

I'm a demon, alright? There you go. Mystery over.

[mimic]

[ It takes a few seconds before he sends out a reply because he needed to switch on the bed light lamp!!! time to process. ]

A demon from hell?

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Yes, a demon from h



there.

I'm originally from Upstairs if you want to get technical but do you know of any demons who aren't from Down There because I don't.