? 017 ?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Hello Plane! There is a rather attractive, dark-haired young woman (with great cheekbones) sitting at your bar, drinking your liquor. She's everything you would imagine a starlet/celebutante to look like: flawless hair, manicure, tiny little designer dress, expensive shoes and fashionable sunglasses.]

[She's currently sipping absently on a martini of some nature, looking extremely bored. Or tired. It's hard to tell through the sunglasses, really.]

[Feel free to bug her? Him. Whatever.]


((ooc: THIS IS NOT AN EXPERIMENT. Demons can change shape. And...yeah. Really that's all I got. Just poke the girl!demon, will you? XD; ))

Comments

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[He sits up enough to drain a portion of the bottle, coughing a bit when he finally takes a breath. And then he passes it back and flops over again.] I believe that Hei fellow has some mental concerns he should sort out.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[A snort]

You're telling me.

[Mimics Aziraphale, sitting up for a moment to take a healthy drink before setting the bottle down between the two of them and laying back down. He sighs.]

Lucky you were around.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[He closes his eyes. And, of course, starts quoting literature.]

'For you see, the face of destiny or luck or god that gives us war also gives us other kinds of pain: the loss of health and youth; the loss of loved ones or of love; the fear that we will end our days alone. Some people suffer in peace the way others suffer in war. The special gift of that suffering, I have learned, is how to be strong while we are weak, how to be brave when we are afraid, how to be wise in the midst of confusion, and how to let go of that which we can no longer hold. In this way, anger can teach us forgiveness, hate can teach us love, and war can teach us peace.'

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Crowley's head slowly turns to where he's staring at the angel. And stare he does, for quite some time. Finally:]

'Only after disaster can we be resurrected.'

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[...blink.] What's that from? I don't recognise it.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Fight Club.

'I am Jack's smirking revenge.'

[Crowley chuckles and reaches for the wine again]

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[Raised eyebrow. He shifts so he can take another drink from the bottle.] 'Fight Club.' That does sound like something you'd enjoy.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[a bit of a guilty look]

Right, I'd forgotten—

I could...bring you some of the more recent books from my reality, if you like?

[extutela.livejournal.com]

Forgotten-- [Oh. He rubs his face with both hands.] That wasn't what I meant.

[And then he sits up and stares at Crowley.] Really?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Laying down again, Crowley laces his fingers together under his head and shrugs a bit, trying to look nonchalant.]

Sure, why not? There's got to be something in the last twenty years you'll find worth reading.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[...he would squee right now, if it wasn't undignified.] That would... be excellent, Crowley, thank you.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Yeah.

[he looks away]

I owe you one, for breaking that up.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[He looks a bit embarrassed.] I'm afraid I lost my temper.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[a soft laugh]

Probably a good thing. The Contractor gets pretty vicious when you piss him off. [a pause] I suppose I'll have to learn to avoid him for good, then. Can't come running to you every time, can I?

[Avoiding that whole love thing? I think so.]

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[He will be joining in the avoidance.] What is he, precisely?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Another shrug, and he turns his head back to face the angel again]

Certain people in his reality have supernatural abilities. Hei, in particular, is rather good at electrocution. [He winces involuntarily at the memory of it]

At any rate, I don't much feel like talking about him.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

What do you want to talk about?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[Silence for a moment...this is a difficult question currently. When he speaks it's hesitant, because if the circumstances were any closer to normal he would NEVER ask something like this:]

Why don't you...talk about yourself? I've missed out on twenty years of knowing you, haven't I? Or, well, something like that.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

About... myself? [The thought honestly hadn't occurred to him.] I don't... [A bit hesitantly] What do you want to know?

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

I...I dunno. How do you get through it? Do you have anything left from...y'know, from before?

[extutela.livejournal.com]

There's no... there's really not a, a 'getting through it,' if you understand. It just... is. As for things from before-- [He pauses, looking distant.] Some of the buildings are still standing.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

Not the bookshop, though.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

No. Not the shop.

[exserpens.livejournal.com]

[This...calls for more wine. Crowley sits up and takes another swig from the bottle. Afterward he just sits there, knees bent, holding the bottle and staring down at it.]

I'm sorry.

[extutela.livejournal.com]

[He shakes his head and drinks more himself.] It's... not so bad. Any more. At first I missed it a great deal, but I've been rather busy since then.