He wasn't sure how it had happened, but somehow the pair of them had become so comfortable with one another that there were no acts put on between them. Kol was undecided whether he liked it, made him feel too....open? Exposed? Whatever it was, it was unsettling. But weirdly, in a good way. "Well, I thought you might have my head if I didn't acquire the taste for scotch," he snarked back.
In the life he'd lived, the thing he'd seen, in simply being a Mikaelson, 'complicated' was something Kol had come across rather often. Complicated was never a good thing, in his experience. The word put a bad taste in his mouth, but he ignored it because Crowley had shown him he could still be surprised sometimes. "What things are complicated how, exactly?" He frowned slightly at the question. It caught him off guard. What difference did that make? "Just what they taught at the camp," he admitted with a shrug. "Angel blade, the Colt." He took another drink from the glass. The possible directions it could go were running through Kol's mind and he wasn't sure where the demon was going. This particular topic of conversation was doing nothing to calm his nerves.