(no subject)

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

[A ruddy-dressed man appears in the middle of the Plane, squinting from beneath a really horrible old hat.]

Och. This must be sum kind o' witchery... De'il be damned an' curse 'is mum, there be stars where there ought to be ain't. I dinnae ask fer this, ye ken? An' who wud? Ach... too old fer this. Wonder if'n Private Pulsifer canna tell me wot this all's aboot.

[He takes a long drag off a cigarette hidden in his hands calmly and looks around, as if waiting.]

... Ye kin send me back anyday now.

...

Ye've got sum nerve, keepin' a man like me 'gainst 'is will. A lotta nerve. Wot do ye ken ye git? I've a mighty finger, aye, I'll tell ye, I'm a man with a hand, an' I'm not afraid t' use it. Th' first Witchfinder on record e'er t' perform an exorcism on a demon... er... I think...

[He considers this for a long moment, then lets it go. His memory slips when he tries to think of the occasion.]

'Course, I'm retired now, but if I canna git rid o' a witch an' 'er wiles thin I was nae a Witchfinder ever. [coughs loudly] Figures I'd hef t' deal wi' a bunch o' Southern pansies. Aye... Ne'er a good explinashun fer anythin' when there should be.

[a little louder] Sen' me back or I'll be forced ta use sum lethal weaponry, ye ken!? Ye deaf'n'ignorant totterin' lean-witted malkins! YE KEN?!

Comments

[durch-feuer.livejournal.com]

{...loud people lately} There's no need for "lethal weaponry", sir.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

Ach! Sure there is!

[durch-feuer.livejournal.com]

Well let me rephrase, then.

There's no need for senseless violence.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

It ain't senseless if witches be involved, boy! Where've ye been?! Alla bunch o' ignorant children, never knowin' or appreciatin' real 'ard work an' protectin'...

[cyfor.livejournal.com]

[Murr] You're noisy.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

[There is a talking cat. Cats should not talk. Therefore Shadwell is talking at the air.]

No I ain't! Ye're th' nuisance, ye... ye... wherever ye be.

[cyfor.livejournal.com]

I'm not yelling.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

Aye, but ye're hidin' like sum kinna coward.

[lamb_of_gold]

Unfortunately, demanding a result will rarely cause it to happen.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

Tha's nonsense. I kin make anythin' I wan' 'appen. Sumthin' kids these days 'ave no idea aboot!

[wait a tic]

... Wot th'ell are ye s'posed ta be?

[lamb_of_gold]

If it helps any, a thought will let you return home, and no time will have passed.

[Wut] I am a person, sir.

[miss-inoue.livejournal.com]

[Scratches her head, just staring at him.]

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

[staaaaaaares back, all squinty-eyed]

Wot'ye lookin' at?

[contract_star]

[More loud people wrrrry. Hei is so tired.]

There's no need to shout, sir.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

[Sorry, Hei. Shadwell is the loudest of them all.]

Are ye th' wun in charge? Well, ye no look like a witch, but ye're ob'v'sly sum kinna Oriental stick-shaker...

[contract_star]

[=_=] ..."Stick-shaker"?

[shinypaws.livejournal.com]

Ah! Really, there's no need for such anger. This is a relatively safe place.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

Safe? SAFE!? It's an outpost o' th' DARKNESS!

[... Wait. What the fffffffahjsffdg?!?!]

... Wot are ye s'posed t'be? I must be havin' sum kinna... hallucimation. Aye, tha's too much o' ol' Jezebel's brew, pro'lly...

[shinypaws.livejournal.com]

Oh my my, I can assure you that the Darkness does not hold sway here. It has a presence here, certainly, but it does not have control of this place. And as long as I am here, I intend to keep it that way.

Oh, me? Ah, I am Amaterasu, sun goddess of Nippon. And you, young one?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Crowley is not in movie-mode, for the time being! Because dear god would that be confusing XD;]

[He realizes, a moment too late, that the person ranting and raving seems awfully familiar. He realizes a moment after that, that he's still sporting a large pair of black feathered wings, and that this might be a problem.]

...bloody He— Hea—

Bugger.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

[Shadwell spots Crowley and ... goes rigid. As much as he can for a beaten old dummy-looking man anyway. He takes a long, slow drag of an invisible cigarette, then points something out calmly.]

Ye've got a dead bird stuck t'ye're back.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Crowley smirks, and attempts to keep his wings as still as possible against his back] Halloween costume, actually. That time of the year again.

...Shadwell, wasn't it?

[soimpressive.livejournal.com]

We get it, yeah.

[manwahand.livejournal.com]

Weel.

...

Can ye tell me anythin'?

[soimpressive.livejournal.com]

I could tell you a lot of things. Regular chatterbox, me.

You're on the astral plane.