1964-10-16 - On Constantine and Other Bad Ideas
Summary: In which Cass and Jesse admit noobody has a clue what Constantine is on about, and that getting drunk and riding the Cyclone is a fantastically bad idea — and so it must happen.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jesse cassidy 


A crisp October evening on the boardwalk of Coney Island means that there's a mixed bag of people wandering about. A lot of the shops and attractions are closed down for the season, but there are still a few die hard businesses open, and a few who come to wander along at all hours of the day. Cassidy offers the flask in his hand to Jesse and says, "So I took the box an I shook it an' all, and he thought it was some ancient relic. His eyes got all big and he gave me the most disapproving look. He was all ye shouldn't play with matches at which point I tossed it at him and watched him near have a heart-attack before he realized it was matches after all. I'd put the tin up there meself." Cassidy regales Jesse with the tale of Lindon coming over looking for John and the uncontrollable urge to fuck with him.


Jesse strolls along the boardwalk, the sound of his boots against the planks giving a very satisfying thud of poignant sound with each step while he halfway listens to Cassidy's story about what trouble he and John have been up to. "Uh huh," his tone clearly distracted while he looks past the shoreline over the ocean. There's a guilty shake of the wild preacher's head. Focus! Turning his attention in Cassidy's direction again, he pulls out the waiting ciagrette from behind his ear and shoves it between his lips. "Sorry Cass, what were you sayin'? That Mills fellah seems like the elastic on his underwear's a little tight. Ah could hear his asscheeks clench when Ah walked in the room. Not really sure what the connection between him and that old fellah John apprenticed under."


"Ah, nevermind," Cassidy mutters when he realizes Jesse's attention is elsewhere and he takes another swig of his flask, tucking it away and shoving his hands in his pockets. His attention turns outward, toward the boardwalk and the few people on it. He shrugs his shoulders and says, "Ah, he's alright if ya figure out how to talk to him. Just make him some tea and biscuits and talk about cats an' he opens right up. Though 'fore that I thought he was gonna start shittin' diamonds."


Exhaling a short sigh, Jesse pats down his breast pocket and front pockets for his lighter. "Ah'm sorry, Cassidy." And it sounds genuine, as only Jesse's lingering tonal shift can express. Disappointment in himself and at large probably whatever else had him thinking outside the conversation his fast-talking Irish friend was having. "He started in pretty quick with the whole 'Father-this' routine." Jesse cuts a wry smile over toward Cass. "It's like Ah make people nervous or somethin'."


"Well Padre, you do hang around with a lot of shady fuckers, likely with plenty on their conscious t'feel guilty about. Most likely you're gonna make a good number of people nervous," Cassidy says. "Fortunately for me, I've got no remorse." He flashes Jesse a broad smile then, already having moved on from the fact that he wasn't being paid any attention.


Jesse finds his lighter and flicks it open with a sharp ting of metal and flint, the flame flickering in the playful winds that dance along the boardwalk. Inhaling deep that first drag, it clicks shut with a snap of Jesse's wrist. Pulled back to the present, Preacher casts a crooked grin warmly to the damned man at his side. "Unrepentant sinner." For whatever backwards reason, his tone sounds gladdened by the completely unapologetic nature of his traveling companion. "Lucky for me." He works on a couple of the details he managed to catch while half listening to Cassidy talk. "You said he came by the pad? When was that?"


"Entirely unrepentant, in fact, glad to go lookin' for more any time you feel like it. I can find all the best places for sinnin'," Cassidy suggests. "This is me old stompin' grounds, as it were." He glances around, "Been about fourty years or so since I been in New York." He then glances back toward Jesse and says, "Oh, yeah, came by lookin' for John about .. a week back maybe? About that." He's not good with short term time recollection. Strolling along, he finds a bit of railing and turns to stop and pull himself up on it, to sit on the top metal rung with his feet propped on the bottom one beneath him.


Holding on to that smile, Jesse shakes his head and blows out a stream of smoke, letting the cigarette hang down by his side; the lit cherry on the end dimly waving back and forth with every step. "If there were a man I'd believe to be more talented than John in findin' good places to sin, it'd be you, Cassidy." Dark eyes flick over in the vampire's direction, shining like a black mirror. "Who knows what kind of places we'll find ourselves in along the way? That talent just might come in handy."

The wild-haired preacher draws up along side Cassidy as he perches on the railing. Jesse situates himself directly beside him, a hand dropped on the top rung, hip nearly touching Cassidy's leg. "A week back. Yeah. About that was when he had me drive down to the guy's apartment. This whole business about this…this /mage/ or whatever they call themselves. It's a little weird." Casting a look up to Cassidy with a single eyebrow arched in spite of himself. "God and angels aside, Ah mean. Different flavor of weird."


Cassidy reaches over when Jesse gets close enough and steals his cigarette, taking a drag off of it and blowing the smoke up and into the air away from them both before he hands it back over. "Oh, I'm sure John's just as good at findin' sin, though I'm thinkin' that his is usually the less fun kind — all spinnin heads and black bloo an' the like. Heebie jeebies business." He grins at that those black mirrors. "Who knows, indeed," he says with another flash of a smile. "The potential for mischief is exhileratin'"

He watches as Jesse settles in beside him and studies him with a curious sort of look. "I don't know what half the shite he talks about means, but I'm fine hangin' out in some dead bugger's place for free while we do our own pokin' about. And if we manage to help him out without blowin' ourselves up, more the better!" Then he smirks a little and says, "And vampires."


Jesse gives Cassidy a look when he steals the cigarette and takes a drag off it, trying to glare at the vampire, but in all actuality, he can't really bring himself to do it without crumbling into a rueful little smirk anyway. Taking it back, there is no hesitation as Jesse sticks it back in the corner of his mouth, looking out over the shore. "His specialty is pretty 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' ain't it?" Jesse chortles briefly and shakes his head from side to side. "All pentagrams drawn on the floor and funny symbols all over the place. Candles and skulls and all hell matter of things." Jesse inhales a deep breath and braces both his hands on the railing, one booted foot lifting to the lowest rung. "Place like this…no wonder we got all manner of craziness." And for a moment he sounds like he's getting into his own 'weird' mood. He gets that way sometimes. The juxtaposing pieces of Jesse Custer who wants to be a preacher and Jesse Custer who wants to watch the world burn.

He pulls back from that abyss in a blink and casts a small smile up at Cass, blinking down and back out to the ocean. "Yeah, Ah don't know what half of it means, either. He's used to hanging around with his witchy pals, but I'm honestly not sure I'd want to know what it means, anyway. That man's seen levels of hell that I personally don't feel invested in runnin' after."


Cassidy grins when Jesse just smirks as his cigarette is stolen. Cheeky bugger. He glances out over the shore as well for a moment and then back to Jesse. He grins a little bit lopsidedly as Jesse describes John's particular brand of strange and nods along. "I don't get much of it at all. I mean, I seen catholics all with their candles everywhere, an' I seen some voodoo down in New Orleans with the squiggly bits. And I've even done some peyote with the Native folks over here — now they knnow how to get a serious head game on, you know? All hallucinations and shite. But this mumbo jumbo — I figure jus' take it all in and try not to get eaten by the knick knacks, you know?" Though as Jesse seems to get up in his head, Cass just grins, "Cool, right? It's a new adventure." Then he chuckles and says, "Well, it ain't Hell we're runnin' after anyway. Figure that'll find us in the end, right?" The smile he flashes is broad and brilliant.


Jesse gives Cassidy's thigh a hearty pat, replacing the hand back on the rail with a drum of his fingers. "Yeah, Cass. It's cool." Preacher agrees, though there is a very faint angle of wry humor nearly tipped with sarcastic hues at the simplicity of that comment. Cool. A deep inhale from that smokey snack, the cherry flairs bright red for a moment before pulled free from his lips and exhales a plume of grey smoke away from Cassidy. "Nah, we ain't lookin' for Hell. Though I get teh feeling you're not wrong about it finding us, Cass." Peering up at the vampire perched on the railing above him, Jesse's smile is a smidge heavier than it should be, but still carries an abundance of companionship that still rings true. "I am getting tired of people telling me to fuck off every time I ask them if they've seen God. Maybe this craziness with John is what we need. You know?" Looking back over the sea. "Just—just a little break."


Cassidy reaches over and gives Jesse's shoulder a squeeze and then a couple of light pats before he says, "I think that a little bit of this nonsense is good. Meet new people. People who do crazy mystical things. Maybe we might trip over some folks with actual information about the things we're lookin' for. Besides, yeah, a little change-up along the way won't hurt nothin'. If God's still out there wanderin'a bout, we'll find him. May as well enjoy the ride along the way, right? We're still on a mission, but where we're lookin' isn't gettin' us anywhere, maybe this will, eh?" Cassidy tips his head a little bit to the side as he regards Jesse thoughtfully, watching him as he watches the sea, studying those black eyes.


The weight that had settled over Jesse lifts only slightly, but it's palpable, leaving sturdiness in his demeanor without the oppressiveness. Comfortable. Like a weighted blanket settled over his shoulders as a mantle. "Sure. Sure. It's possible. You start dealin in hell an' spirits and magic, it's a warmer path than doin' what we were doing before. Going around, asking if anyone's seen the big man hasn't brought us a whole lot of luck." Jesse pivots to the side, his attention out to the sea while he draws another long pull of his cigarette and plucks it out from between his lips as he exhales. Turning back toward Cassidy, the swarthy preacher's attention focuses on his vampyric companion, offering his smoke out for the last couple drags. "Thanks, Cass. Ah have a tendency to get a little too far in mah head sometimes, I know it. It's good to have you here, with me. With us, really."


"Aye, well there ain't nothin' wrong with comin' in out of the cold an havin' a nip o' brandy, dryin' out by the fire, before goin' out in the rain again, is there? Jus' so long as you make sure to keep yer path in mind, and yer goal," Cassidy says, reaching out to point two fingers toward Jesse's temple. "But I don't think that's ever gonna be a danger for you, Padre. You've always got those heavy thoughts lingerin' around in there, rattlin' about." He takes the cigarette when offered between two fingers and takes a long drag from it, letting the smoke curl out past his lips. "Well, it ain't like I got a whole lot else better to do," he points out and then grins, lifting that cigarette to his lips again before he says, "No place I'd rather be."


Fingers aim toward his temple and Jesse starts with a grin, exhaling a surprised chuckle as he arches a brow up at his friend. The pairing of those two digits looks oddly like a gun, to him, but he doesn't point it out, leaving only a long look at the tattooed man brimming with dark humor. Tapping the opposite temple with his middle finger. "Hard not to with this rattlin' around in my skull. Splittin' headaches half the time. If anything we come across seems familiar, She might jus' point us in that direction. After Ah'm done dry heavin' we can jump on it." Shoving away from the railing, Jesse pats Cassidy's knee. "Come on. You said brandy, I'll buy ya a 'nip', how about that?"


The similarity to a gun is probably lost on Cassidy who just gesticulates randomly, not paying particular attention. Though he is perceptive enough to notice the humor in those dark eyes and he pauses, looks confused for a moment, and then shrugs his shoulders. The cigarette is finished off and squashed out, the butt tossed over the railing into the sand. "I know more than one cure for a splittin' headache," Cassidy opines and then hops down off the railing to follow Jesse toward imminent brandy. "Well, I'll never turn that down, now will I?" He falls into step next to Jesse, willing to continue on their ambling stroll along the boardwalk.


Jesse shakes his head mildly, negating the confused look with a pat of reassurance. Forget it, pal. "Do they include puttin' a number of illicit substances in yer veins?" Jesse asks, half joking quite honestly to Cassidy, since he can only imagine the kind of cures that Cass knows has to include drugs. The satisfying thud of his boots on the planks continue while the odd looking pair stroll in the evening air.


"Some o' them," Cassidy admits readily enough with not an ounce of shame. Shameless, that one. "Others not at all," he grins and takes a moment or two just to look up at the sky, staring at it long enough that one might wonder if he were going to collide with the scenery. But he doesn't, seeming to have some uncanny knack for knowing just when to pay attention and to avoid nearby poles and benches. He idly watches people go by, taking a moment to consider one or the other for a time, until they approach the bar.


Jesse quirks a brow in Cass' direction when he admits that only some of them include what he imagined and expected out of the centuries old drug addict. He waits in silence for a couple seconds to see if Cassidy is going to enlighten him while they meander toward a bar. The black-clad man of God then looks forward and seems thoughtful for a couple more moments while he tries to figure it out on his own. Giving up as they approach the bar, Jesse holds the door open and pauses with a confused look written across his features. Looking Cassidy straight in the eye, he /has/ to ask now, "What're the rest?"


"Why gettin' completely shitfaced and mind blowin' sex, of course," Cassidy says straight-faced as he looks at Jesse as though that were the most obvious thing in the world. He then splits into a wide grin, gives the man a wink, and slips into the bar. He makes his way right on up and takes himself a seat before saying, "I'll have a nip of brandy and the Padre here will have…" he glances over at Jesse, waiting to see what he wants, after all, he was the one offering to pay.


Jesse's expression is kind of classic in the face of that obvious answer. Lidding his eyes at the cocky Irishman, the 'duh' manner in which he says it just has to rouse a crooked grin out of Jesse. The preacher man blows out a breath of a laugh and reaches over to shove Cassidy through the doorway and muttering something that sounds a lot like "—incorrigible fucking guy." And falling into a series of chuckles as he ambles up to the bar along side Jesse. "Whiskey. Neat. Don't be shy with it."


That classic expression just causes Cassidy to laugh, grinning broadly. He takes the shoving with a good-natured shrug of his shoulders. "Y'did ask, Padre." He then settles in at the bar, awaiting his drink as it is brought over and set in front of him. He takes it up and lifts it in Jesse's direction before swallowing it. "So, why the shore?" He glances around the bar and then back out toward the beach. "Wondering if God's just wandering around out here playing skee ball?"


Jesse gives a rolling series of nods which definitely seems a little funny as he gives Cassidy a sidelong grin. "That…I definitely did. Thank you fer reminding me why askin' you questions is something a man should do with the knowledge he's to blame for the answer." Casting a broad flash of an actually boyish looking smile of a man finally just screwing around and shedding that heavier mantle of this…admittedly fucked up holy quest. Jesse shrugs a shoulder, his eyes shining with that reflective dark humor. "Honestly? It's the only place Ah haven't wandered down an' Ah wanted to see the Cyclone…"


Cassidy lifts his glass in Jesse's direction as soon as it is set in front of him and says, "To bein' careful what you ask for, or you know, not bein' careful and just takin' what you get." He flashes a broad grin and tips back his drink, taking a long swig off of it, that grin only growing when Jesse's own smile reflects the shedding of that heavy mantle. "Now that's the spirit," he says, giving Jesse a pat on the back. "We should go check out the Cyclone. That sounds like somethin' someone should get on while all liquored up. I can't imagine what could go wrong with that."


Jesse tips his glass back in Cassidy's direction with a wise guy angle of a crooked smile, clinking their glasses together unceremoneously and quickly dropping back a drink, the preacher man was definitely drinking more to feel it rather than taste it. That's usually his routine, though; Jesse rarely buys booze that tastes good. It's alcholic. That's good enough. Leaning heavily into the bar, black clad arms folded together and gripping his drink, that shining mischief in his eyes isn't so hard to shake, and for a moment it's easy to see the devil in the man. "Sounds like a recipe fer you throwin' up on my boots, and the followin' kicking I give your backside up and down this boardwalk, Cass." Still, Jesse straightens, considering the thought.


Cassidy raises both eyebrows and mocks looking offended, "Ye of little faith." The irony of this exclamation not being lost on him, he grins again broadly. Seeing that little bit of the devil in the preacher only encourages him more. "Who's to say it won't be you who is the one doubled over pukin' his guts out when it's all over." This sounds like a challenge because it is exactly that. The irishman's eyes glitter with it.


A wide pressed smile is balanced by one dark eyebrow lofting a tough higher than its brother as Jesse looks at Cass. Yeah, he caught the irony there. Waiting for Cassidy to grin, Jesse finds himself chuckling smoothly and leaning in to shoulder bump the vampire. "Oh, are you sure you wanna drop that gauntlet, Cassidy? Ah'll have you know that you are speakin' to the 1960 county fair tilt-a-whirl champion, here."


"I think I do," Cassidy says with a nod, and then another nod for good measure. "Yep, I think I do." He then tosses back his drink and motions for the bartender to bring him some more of the bottom-shelf stuff to fill up his glass. The bump against his shoulder only causes him to grin more broadly and return the gesture. "An' you're speakin' to a man who's ridden rough seas with naught but rum and some stale bread in his gullet. I think I can take ya."


"Gullet?" Jesse says with emphatic, teasing skepticism, expressive brows pulling together for a wrinkle as he lifts his glass to drop the rest of his drink down and gesture for another, not to be outdone. "What are ya? A pirate? Gonn' get scurvy on me next, Cass?" Boasting, now, Jesse's brows loft up high, turning in his stool to face Cassidy a bit more head on. "You ever taken off road in the back of a pickup bein' driven by a drunk teenager? Rough seas can kiss my ass."


"An' what if I was? You don't think I coulda been a pirate?" Cassidy asks, smirking a bit at Jesse at the scurvy comment. Though he does nod after a moment of considering the pickup driven by a drunk teenager and concedes, "Fair enough, Padre. You've got qualifyin' experience, that's for sure." And with that he tosses back the glass, draining it in one steady pour, swallow after swallow until it's empty and he thunks it down on the surface of the bar.


"Well, your name is suited to be any kind of outlaw," Jesse considers, lidding his eyes while Cassidy drains that second glass, watching the bob of Cassidy's adam's apple while he swallows. "Cowboy or Pirate. Dread pirate Cassidy." With an obliging roll of his eyes, Jesse drops back his second glass with a stiff wince and hard drop of the glass hitting the bartop with emphasis.


"Cassidy and the Gang, Dread Pirate Cassidy, Don Cassidy," Cassidy starts to rattle off, though that last one earns a laugh. Imagining Cassidy as Italian Mob is a little bit difficult all things considered. He glances over toward Jesse once the drink is done and he thunks the glass back on the bar, motioning for another for both of them when Jesse's glass hits the bartop.


Jesse laughs at the last one as well, through the wince from his drink, dark eyes still squinted while he recovers from that burning sensation. "Don Cassidy? Okay, Boss. Gonna go shake a guy down an' bust his knees?" Sliding a skeptical look toward the vampire beside him. "You know that I offered to buy you /a/ drink, yeah?"


"But then we agreed that we were going to get drunk and go ride the Cyclone," Cassidy points out with a gesture toward the drinks. "And that's not gonna happen on one drink alone, Padre. Neither of us is that much of a light weight." He flashes a winning grin then.


Smiling placidly at Cassidy, damn well knowing the answer already when the guy gets into it, Jesse leans comfortably against the bar, simply shaking his head at his unusual companion. "This is a terrible idea." Still, he picks up the new drink and holds the glass out slightly in Cassidy's direction. "But we seem to be in the business of terrible ideas. Let's do it."


Cassidy clinks his glass against Jesse's when the man holds it out and just grins broadly, "C'mon, Jesse. You wouldn't enjoy my company nearly as much if I weren't full of terrible ideas." He lofts his glass and then begins to down it again, all in one go. The faster the better to get that buzz going on. He then sucks in some air through his teeth and lets it out again. "Another? Or do you think you're spinnin' enough yet for the ride?"


"Well," Jesse considers with a crooked smile over the lip of his glass. "You're not wrong." A dark eye lingering on his friend, the foul-mouthed Irishman chugging his drink, Jesse grinsrows of perfect teeth flashingthen does the same, willing his stomach to not recoil in horror. Whiplashing forward, Jesse squeezes his eyes shut tight and cringes as his glass comes down, sliding it a few inches away from him as if the thing just bit him. Ick. "Let it settle, Cass. Let it settle." Jesse urges, keeping one heel hooked on his barstool, but otherwise standing up to try to 'shake down' the liquor a little bit. "I'm gonna have to piss like a racehorse later. Okay. We better get in that direction before we're both too drunk to find the way."


Cassidy watches Jesse as he nearly doubles over from the bite of that last drink and he slaps some cash down on the bar. Was Jesse buying the drinks? Seems like Cass has it covered after all. Then he pulls himself to his feet and gives Jesse a few pats on the back, and then he pulls away from the bar and says, "Alright, let's go see about this Cyclone o' yours and may the best man win." He grins then and he ambles on out of the bar, listing only slightly before he catches the edge of the doorframe. Meant to do that, then it's out onto the boardwalk and on the way to the cyclone.


The smack of that green down on the bar makes Jesse arch an eyebrow at Cassidy, then checking his wallet pocket to make sure that he didn't just nick Jesse's wallet and pay for it that way. Gratified with a wise-ass grin, jesse pulls away and grasps the skinny Irishman by the base of his neck roughly, giving him a little waggle in comraderie before clapping him on the back. Already a little looser. "I'll try not to embarrass you too much when I win, Cassidy." Jesse turns his head as Cassidy lists toward the doorframe, his head whipping around, he twists around with that motion and trips over the overhang of the boardwalk, catching himself with a stumble and short laugh.


Surprisingly enough, it is not Jesse's wallet that Cassidy snagged. Turns out the Irishman might have a few bucks on him after all, the last vestiges of some winnings from darts or something of the like. That grip to the back of his neck makes the little hairs on the back of Cassidy's neck stand on end and Jesse can probably feel the shiver that goes down his spine. The clap on the back seems to shake him out of it, and he gives a little cough and a laugh before he makes his way out the door. Reaching out when Jesse stumbles, he grabs onto his upper arm tightly, perhaps a little too tightly, and then loosens his grip immediately when he realizes. "Y'alright there Padre?"


Jesse comes back and takes a moment to find his center of gravity again after that stumble, reaching up to clutch Cassidy's shoulder. If he notices the close proximity, it doesn't seem to bother him very much, but oh boy Jesse's breath smells like the bottom shelf liquor he just dropped back several times to keep up with Cassidy. Turning to face the man, the preacher laughs heartily. "Yeah, Ah'm all right, Cass. Scuffed my damn boots. Someone put that stoop there when we weren't looking." Another warm squeeze on Cassidy's shoulder, Jesse leans in and releases him. "Thanks, pal. C'mon. We got a roller coaster t'tame."


Once Jesse seems to have his balance back, Cassidy releases him and laughs a little bit, "And on a weekend, too. Industrious of them." If Cass' own breath didn't smell exactly the same, then he might even take exception to that sudden exhale, but he doesn't seem to care. He takes the warm squeeze, and then he steps back a bit, nodding, and heading on toward the roller coaster. This late in the season, there's no line. It's easy to get the tickets to get on it.


Jesse gets the tickets since Cassidy picked up drinks after all, and manages to somewhat sloppily curl his finger in a 'keep 'em coming' gesture. Two tickets each, he produces the pair to Cassidy, a little bit of a devil in Jesse's small smile. Drinking does that to him, though it widely varries which devil one is going to get. Sometimes it's the imp and sometimes it's the demon.

Right now, it's the imp, and Jesse's smile reflects the fact. "This is jus' in case we need a second go. Should be a quick turn around."


"O so we're doin' this twice are we? Makin' sure that one of us is gonna wind up regrettin' it one way or another, eh?" Cassidy takes his two tickets and shoves one into his jeans pocket and the other he holds out as they go to get inline. The truth of the matter is, Cassidy doesn't care which devil he's going to get. He is game to tangle with either one. But he likes the imp, especially when it's reflected in Jesse's eyes. "Alright. Here we go then," he says and into the cart they pile, tickets given.


"Gotta be thorough," Jesse replies with a crooked shit-eating smile pressed between his lips. "Otherwise what's the point?" Strolling to the shortened line where they get to linger for not very long, Jesse swaying just a little bit and trying to appear sober. Especially when he notices a couple of other people looking at him in that 'oh shit, there's a clergy collar' manner. He slides a sketch of a smile in their direction, exchanging a short, polite nod with them and pivoting to turn his back at them and giving a rather wide-eyed look at Cassidy. He's gonna get in /trouble/ like this. "Yer a bad influence Cassidy." But he doesn't seem to have any complaints about it, currently.

Piling on into the card and strapping in relatively securely, Jesse nudges Cassidy with his shoulder. "Watch the boots, Cass."


"Gotta be," Cassidy agrees easily enough with a laugh. He glances over at the folks that are looking at Jesse and he can't help but giving them a broad grin, the tattooed vampire entirely shameless. When Jesse turns and gives him that look, Cass can't help but laugh outright and clap him on the shoulder. "I am the worst influence, Padre. You can blame it all on me." And then they are in the car and Cassidy chuckles, glancing over at Jesse. "You watch out for your own boots."


Not that they don't get a fair share of weird looks anyway when Jesse and Cassidy walk down the street together. The covers of those two books couldn't be any less alike from one another, and Jesse sort of gets a kick out of the reactions sometimes. A little bit of that imp showing in his smile when he notices people smiling at him, then quickly rushing away when they look at Cassidy—or the opposite. "So pretty much like Ah do most days?" Jesse asks regarding blaming it all on Cassidy, in light humor.

"I'll watch out for my boots, but you're going to have a rough night extractin' my croc skin from your rectum if things go bad, my friend." Jesse replies merrily. A quick huff of the night air taken in as the coaster lurches forward, starting the climb toward that first drop. Jesse grins and raps his palms on the lap bar in rhythmic order, getting pumped. "Hold on to yer hats!"


It is true enough, on the one hand, the blonde tattooed vampire is all light, and ink, and color, and full of inappropriate observations, and broad grins. And Jesse, the dark eyed dark haired man of the cloth with his clergy collar couldn't be more opposite visually, and yet, yet, that seems to entertain Cassidy all the more just as much. "Yep, pretty much like most days," he agrees.

"Oh it wouldn't be the first time that my a.." Cassidy starts to say but it gets cut off by the sudden noise of the wind and the cheering and shouting of others on the ride, not to mention that sudden drop that whips them around into the darkness of a tunnel an dthen on out the other side, twirling around before climbing again. "Whoooooo!!!" Cassidy cheers, having a blast and showing no apparent signs of nausea — but then, vampire, and vampire who spends most of his time in periods of inebriation."


The wicked comment swallowed up by joyful screams, Jesse forgets about it swiftly as the wind whips around them and they're plunged into disassociating darkness. Holding his breath at first, Jesse waits until the tunnel to let a whoop go up, laughing and haulering. The adrenaline helps him keep his head about him. Or maybe that brag really wasn't something he was just blowing smoke about. It's hard to really say at this juncture. He does rattle around pretty bonelessly in the cart beside Cassidy, however. That's where the drunkeness really sort of shows its colors.


That Cassidy is drunk is without question. That Cassidy can hold his liquor even when that drunk is also a pretty good bet. And so as they go flying around another curve, Cass throws his arms in the air and whoops and hollers along with the other riders. There are a few — enough to warrant running the ride in the firs place. Around and over and under and through they go until the ride finally pulls back up and lets them out. Cassidy does stumble a little and grabs onto the railing for balance when he gets out of the car, but he does not, to his credit, get sick. "Round two?" he asks Jesse with a laugh as he manages to pull himself upright.


Shook up pretty good by those twists and turns on the Cyclone of legend, Jesse hoots and shouts while the cart is thrown around on the cart, pummeling Cassidy's shoulder with his forearm just once as they rock to a halt. After a moment, the swarthier man looks just a wee bit pale as he gets up from the car and follows his friend out. Patting Cassidy's back as he stumbles and grabs for the rail. Jesse's focussing on breathing. "Whoo! That'll stir you up a bit, huh?" Jesse looks a little pale around his cheeks and grips the railing as well, not doubled over it, but letting it keep him steady. There's a smile when Cassidy offers another round. Not one to back down from a challenge, Jesse answers by walking around slowly to the line once again.


Cassidy might take the walk back around the line a little slower than usual. He's not at all letting Jesse get a chance to catch his breath. Nope. Not at all. He laughs and says, "Aye, that got the blood goin' and the adrenaline pumpin'. But it'd be a shame to waste another set of tickets, not when you were so set on the challenge." Oh, he might be letting Jesse catch his breath, but he's not going to forego a little ribbing on the way around as they drift through the empty line barriers and make their way back to the Cyclone.


Believe you me, Jesse is feeling some pain as he leans on the metal herding bars that form up the initial line. Still, he has the audacity to cast a cheeky grin in Cassidy's direction, trying to appear goading in the posturing way most men will take on in challenge. Absolutely letting the cool autumn night air settle his stomach a bit, though his eyes are getting rather unfocused while liquor drips into his bloodstream. "Not unless you wanna forfeit, Cass. I'm not a man to turn down a good old fashioned challenge." Back in line and back up to the car they just exited, there's a sense of reluctant doom that hangs over him as he straps back in. A little less jovial this time around as Jesse eyes Cassidy. "You sure?"


"Oh, I"m not goin' to be the one to back down from this challenge, mate. You and I, we're doing this thing." Cassidy chuckles when Jesse suggests that he might be the one to back down. He follows Jesse on through the cattle herding line, hanging back just a little bit so that neither knocks the other over with their wobbling until they find themselves in the car once again. "No turning back," he says when Jesse asks if he's sure. His grin is just as broad this time. He reaches over and gives Jesse's shoulder a light smack before the bar comes down and they're about to begin again.


"Your funeral, /mate/," Jesse replies cheekily, sitting back in that car with the impression of a false recline of relaxation. Of course, not that it lasts very long. The moment the car rocks into motion, Jesse lurches forward and looks pretty damn peaked, sucking in a deep breath to try to clear his head. This could be a very, very bad ride.


"Wouldn't be the first one," Cassidy points out with a cheeky grin that is all sass as the car suddenly lurches forward and they are going up that incline toward the first drop. Cass glances over and sees that Jesse is looking pretty green around the gills. It's a good thing that the cold crisp fall air helps with that sort of thing, because it's about to be a very bumpy spinning twirling ride. And once again when they're off, Cassidy throws his arms in the air. The whooping and hollering is a lot fewer this time around as there are only a couple of other riders.


Oh. Right. Jesse gives Cassidy a second look, his eyelids hanging a little lower than they usually do, he finds himself bursting out into a smile when he realizes that truth. It's a distraction which puts him off his game, though the hard clinks of the chain pulling them up the first drop brings his focus back. Come on, Custer. Hold on. There's a very limited amount of shouting and elation from Jesse this time around, holding on to the bar tightly and focusing on not giving in to that urping feeling in his stomach. Quiet, Jesse's eyes close a couple of times before he realizes that that is somehow worse, and wills his eyes open again. Making it through the second rattling trip around the track, in and out of tunnels, Jesse looks positively green when they lurch to a halt.


Now it's not to say that Cassidy isn't a little pale. I mean, he's a white boy normally, but he's a little paler than usual after the second ride. But that doesn't seem to dampen his spirits. He pulls himself up out of the car and stumbles a bit, and has to hold onto the railing, laughing, to get his feet under him. But he offers Jesse a hand up out of the car with a broad grin and a "You made it! And I didn't even had t'have another funeral. They aren't bad, by the way, people bring lots of food when someone's died. Though, probably don't want to be thinkin' about food right now."


Jesse sticks back in the car for a few extra seconds when they're allowed out. The preacher man swallowing hard once or twice, dark eyes turn on Cassidy, staring down at his hand for a long moment, he takes the offered hand and gets his feet under him carefully. A very thin, willful smile written on the swarthy man's face, Jesse moves very stiffly to the railing and holds on as if he's about ready to fall off the face of the planet. Victorious! Jesse seems very pleased with himself for a few moments while Cassidy starts talking about funerals and food. There's a slice of a glance in the tattooed man's direction, dark eyes shining dimly, though there's still some sense there, even under heavy lids. Silent, Jesse's smile stretches a little bit.


"Well it seems it was a draw, Jesse, me friend. You made it through in the end," Cassidy says, not even aware that he's rhyming. He gives Jesse's back a bit of a pat and a rub between the shoulderblades before patting him again, just letting him rest there against the railing for a while and get himself together. He waits until a little bit of color begins to return to Jesse's cheeks or the ride operators kick them out — whichever comes first, before he slings an arm around the man's shoulders and helps him out of the park, or at least far enough from the ride and back out to the boardwalk where he can lean up against that railing.


The clap on his back is met with a groan and rather bumbled push of Cassidy's arm as Jesse tries to keep himself upright. "Whoa, now." His head spins and a crooked smile appears, eyes sliding shut. "Dirty trick, buddy." His stomach lurches and the preacher looks green again, stubbornly refusing to let his stomach upend itself. He definitely hangs there for a while, catching his breath and trying to back his stomach down his gullet. Focusing for several minutes while Cassidy hangs by him, Jesse eventually straightens himself, looking a little less topsy turvy, but still drunk. "You're a beast, Cass. A beast. I don't know if that was really a draw…hah…damn."


"Oh it's alright, Jesse, don't be feelin' too bad now, give you another century or so and you'll like as be able to keep up with me," Cassidy teases, grinning back as Jesse straightens himself. He leans against the railing comfortably, watching as the boardwalk shuts down for the night, letting the breeze come in off the ocean. It's a little chilly but not too bad. Enough to be bracing without being too cold. His grin is all mischief though when he looks back over toward Jesse. "You gonna be able to make it home?"


"Another century," Jesse repeats the words in a whisper of humor as he pulls himself together. "If I'm still doin' this in another century, do me a favor an' end it, would you, pal?" Jesse remarks with a strong buzz, steeling himself against the spinning in his head while he twists slowly, leaning back against the railing. Asking if he's going to be able to get home, Jesse lifts his eyes all the way up to find Cassidy's (after searching for a moment), the Irishman's mischievous smile reflected in his own smile. "That's why I have you, isn't it? T'make sure I get home okay?"


Cassidy chuckles just a little bit with some bit of dry humor, but there's something about the mirth that goes away after a moment or two and he's just looking out over the water, letting Jesse recover. He looks over to find Jesse's eyes, and the smile lingers for a moment, but then he sobers a bit and nods, "Aye, Jesse. Tha's why you have me." There's a bit of a lopsided smile then and he says, "I'll make sure ye get home safe."


Oblivious to the darker moments that flood through Cassidy's mind or the subtle shifts of expression and activity while the whole world feels like it's sailing on uneven water, Jesse unevenly smiles, then grins at Cassidy, quickly fading back into a funny smile. Dark eyes are a bit hazy as they fall shut, the preacher inhaling a deep breath and huffing it out slowly. He seems more solemn, gravitating in Cassidy's direction until his shoulder leans against the vampire's. "Cassidy, I've got a very important question. An' Ah need you to answer me, truthfully."


Cassidy grins a little back at Jesse, knowing full well that the man is three sheets to the wind, and letting him lean against his shoulder. He looks out over the boardwalk and then smirks just a little bit at the question, waiting for it to be something about where they can get a good jelly donut, or at least something greasy to wash down the booze at this hour. "Uh huh," he chuckles.


"Do you," Jesse begins and breathes deeply to take pause in the middle of his sentence. "Smell hot dogs?" Dark eyes open back up to stare up at Cassidy, feeling the full swing of those drinks from earlier. Letting Cassidy and the railing hold him upright, the preacher keeps a persistent half smile crooked on his lips.


"Mhmn," Cassidy says with a chuckle. "Nathan's," he says and nods down the boardwalk. "You want a hot dog?" he asks, looking a little skeptical reaching out just a little bit to keep Jesse steady, but the railing and his shoulder seems to be doing a good enough job of that. "I can go get ye one, unless you want to try an' make it over there."


Preacher sucks in a surprised sounding breath and pats Cassidy's lean chest. "/How did you know/? You're a mind reader. Mind reader…vampire." Jesse laughs out the last word, realizing how ridiculous the accusation sounds, or maybe that he's standing here, talking to his good friend, who happens to be, in fact, a vampire. Weird, preposterous world. Slowly leaning away from the railing, but still using Cassidy as a post, Jesse tries to summon up some sense of dignity. "Ah can walk it."


"You didn't know?" Cassidy says as he turns to lean in and look Jesse in the eyes, as though he could mind-read him right there. "I can look into your eyes and see what you're thinkin' if you ain't careful." He tries to do it straight-faced but eventually the grin comes out. He can't help it. He's no good at bluffing. He leans away from the rail as well then, when it seems they're on the move, and he makes an effort to help keep Jesse upright all the way over to Nathan's. Fortunately, it's not a very long walk.


Moving along, Jesse is lucky that he has Cassidy there to hold him up on the short walk, as his feet seem to be moving along on auto pilot but his center of gravity is pretty abysmal. A handreaches up from behind to firmly grip Cassidy's shoulder nearest to him. Wavering, the scruffy preacher leans heavily on Cassidy and stares up at him, trying very hard to maintain eye contact. Those dark, deep eyes a little unfocussed and hazy, understandably. "I ain't careful very often. So. What'm Ah thinkin'?" Jesse teases.


Cassidy lets his shoulder be used like an anchor, and doesn't move particularly fast so that Jesse doesn't have to try to hurry to keep up. The vampire's still got a solid buzz going but he's more steady on his feet despite it. He glances over and notices Jesse staring at him and he lets both eyebrows rise. "Right now? You're thinkin' about gettin' two coneys. No relish," he says and then waits to see how right he might be on that count or not.


Jesse blearily stares up at his buzzing friend, angling a small smile after a moment. "You /are/ a mind reader," then laughs. Leaning heavily on that shoulder as they make the blissfully short walk toward the stand and Jesse becomes less than helpful once again. Drunken stupor seems to come in waves of lucidity and near sleep.


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