total crack prompt but could we get drunk!In-ze twins? I feel like Alura and Astra would be pretty hilarious when drunk. Plus, that alien bar has to be good for something lol

wearethewitches:

Okay, so this isn’t crack – it’s only vaguely funny and kind of went out on a vaguely angsty tangent, but here you go anyway!

–

“Why did I do this with you?”

Astra slides another shot of some kind of alien alcohol across
to her in answer. “Because, sister, you wanted a break from human law school
and going out with your human friends to get drunk isn’t feasible.”

Alura groans, leaning sideways onto her sister’s shoulder. “I
don’t like being drunk, it makes me think of lots of things I wouldn’t.”

“That’s what being drunk is,”
Astra replies, patting Alura’s head gently. “Did you get all your essays done,
before you came?”

“Yes,” Alura reaches for the shot glass at the reminder,
wanting to completely forget the nightmare that were her essays. Downing the
fiery liquid, Alura struggles not to cough, accepting the citrus piece that
Astra offers, still leaning on her. “I miss Lucy.”

“Oh?” Astra queries, sounding like it amuses her, “Do you
really? What do you miss about your wife, Alura?”

“Her hair. Her smile,” Alura sighs, moping, “She makes me scrambled
eggs in the morning and I haven’t been able to make them the same way.”

“You might have the milk to egg ratio wrong,” M’gann offers
as Astra motions for the bottle, watching as she pours more shots for them
both. “Or the temperature might be wrong. Oil makes a pan hotter.”

“We make eggs in the microwave machine,” Alura meets eyes
with the Martian, not expecting the horrified expression. “What is it?”

“Eggs in the microwave?
What kind of heathen is your wife?” M’gann demands, wrinkling her nose. “You
make scrambled eggs on a pan with bacon-”

“We don’t eat meat,” Astra interrupts, “Unlike my sacrilegious
niece.”

“The point remains: you make any type of eggs in a pan,” M’gann
moves away to answer some other patron’s demands, Alura frowning.

“Why does Kara eat
meat?”

“She was raised that way,” Astra replies magnanimously,
pushing a shot to Alura when – predictably – her sister’s mood sours as a
result. “Apologies. This is supposed to be a night of fun and relaxation.”

“Instead, we talk about the wrong way to make scrambled eggs
and how Kara was raised into eating animals.”

Astra clinks a shot glass against Alura’s. “To dreadful conversation.”

Alura snorts, “To dreadful conversation.”