[Maou (maybe) isn't beelining for the alcohol for once, but he is trundling in and shaking his head to himself -- he isn't quite as grouchy as he was as of last Saturday and their unnecessary and collective dramatic twist of fate, but he does look a little bit put out.]

I would say good day, but this day has come again: I suppose we must spend the winding down of our week dealing with the whims of lesser demons.

[A huff before Maou (probably) lets himself fall into onto a nearby, plushier seat and rests his cheek on a hand. Dramatically. Even more dramatically, a stray feather drifts from where it had gotten caught in his hair and lands delicately on his nose.

There's another sulky huff where he waves it off.]

That being said, you are beginning the drinking early, aren't you?