I will answer something tomorrow morning, but then I will be on computer classes again. Another day with minimum of replies…
RP and Ask blog of Crowley, The King of Hell.
I will answer something tomorrow morning, but then I will be on computer classes again. Another day with minimum of replies…
You are so sweet, hon.
She was somewhat surprised at the offer. When they’d talked about it before he’d seemed unsure that her staying would be a good thing. This was certainly a change, but a welcome one. She hated having to leave when she wasn’t on a job, to find a way to fill her time before she could see him again.
"I’ll do anything I can, you know that." She came to crouch beside his chair, watching him intently. "You don’t need to pay me; just being with you is enough. And I would never say our time is up. Never."
The look in his eyes startled her. She’d not seen him like that before, wasn’t sure how to help. But she wanted to. She wanted to do anything she could to erase that despair from his eyes.
"Tell me how I can help." She implored, "Tell me what I can do."
He ran his fingers through her hair, smiling, but his smile twitched painfully. His little personal angel, Crowley still couldn’t believe that she chose him to take her under his hand, even her fall didn’t change the fact how different they were, the angel and the demon. But when she brought him angel blades and dropped before him like a firewood, the King of Hell began to understand that Kellen was here not just because of protection he could give her.
"I lost the sense," he said, "And I’m not even under the human blood, but I feel, I can fall into old bad habits again with ease. I don’t feel something important, love. I look at Hell, all these black-eyed, red-eyed, white-eyed bastards… and I hate them. I shouldn’t hate them, they are my subjects, my family, my children at some point… I want to run away. Or kill them all. Or kill them all and run. I’m way too old for midlife crisis."
"Ugh I can’t help
"Oh… Wrong door, sorry, it happens. I had a little business here and decided to search for some… thing attractive for dinner. And you are the one, who captures all this beauty for history?"
"Don’t do love, don’t do friends
I’m only after success
Don’t need a relationship
I’ll never soften my grip”
Dante didn’t feel in any way sick, if anything he felt exhausted and restless, his decently-sized frame stuffed into a closet with his hands cuffed behind his back. He didn’t know why, but there hadn’t been any chance at escaping the cramped space. Hearing footsteps approach, the demon opened his eyes, waiting with some hesitant despair. He had certainly been in much better condition before, now more or less covered in blood and beaten, clothes torn. The door opening, Dante resisted the urge to stumble out of his temporary prison and from the sudden feeling of claustrophobia. He leaned against the wall instead despite his cuffed hands, straightening. A pained moan left him. “Took ya long enough…” he mumbled. Actually, he didn’t even know how long he had been there. It felt like a while.
Yeah cats TOTALLY only like us for food and have no emotional dependency at all.
The King of Hell raised his brows, as though he was insulted by his demon’s words, but the faint smile on his lips and sparkles in his hazel eyes showed the amusement from this talk. “And you look like a loser about to be kicked out of the gambling-house. I have a little thing called style, darling, I don’t do sky blue. But if you want so, I can change the colour of my tie.” He was holding the latter in his fingers, going to make a perfect knot, and the tissue immediately changed from raven black to blood-red. “Better?” Crowley asked in a teasing tone, raising his collar and throwing the tie upon his neck. After he finished with it he came closer to Dante and helped him with his own tie. “We need to do something with your wardrobe. You are my right hand after all, people should see it. And what’s with the mojo? Quit acting like yesterday born black eyed infant rat, if you need more power, I will give it to you. Image, Dante, sometimes you need to be more conspicuous.”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “Are ya trying t’tell me I don’t have style?” he replied, offering Crowley an indignant pout, as though he was actually insulted. “I think this color works just fine.” He couldn’t resist a grin as the tie changed color in his hands, and he offered his King a nod. “Oh, yeah,” He said . “That’s much better. Love the contrast.” His next criticism, however, was enough to cause him to raise an eyebrow, however. “Well, I mean. no one’s really looking,” he mused. “Does it matter if I bloody dress myself manually?” He smirked. “I haven’t gotten to that point of laziness, yet, Your Highness. And, what, ya want me to dress like a funeral director?” Again, he winked. As much as he loved Crowley, he also loved to tease him.
"Funeral director?" Crowley took his coat from the bed, folded it and hang it over his head. "I should remember it, nice cover, very Hitchcock." He fixed the knot under his demon’s neck and paused before placing a quick kiss on his lips and moving back. "Blue is your colour," he said, "I’m just teasing. But you should think about it. Buy yourself Longines at least, good watch make a tramp look like he’s Steve Jobs. And listen to your King, love, use your powers, you have them." He snapped his fingers and took a map of the City of Chicago. It fell on the covers, and Crowley gestured to Dante, "Listen to the disposition. Here," he pointed at the map, "Is the house of wolf clan bosses. Here is the residence of fangs. And here is the club, where two families love to make business, dance, drink and do other nasty things. There, behind the private entrance, they do the utmost to gnaw a demon out of me."
Thank you, Nonnie!
"Ground rules are always broken, you’re a Time Lady and I’m a devil, so don’t try to make a naive newbie out of me." Crowley half-turned to her and entwined his fingers thoughtfully, "But don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to change the past or future. I just need to check something. One ship, the turn of eighteen century."
"You know I can’t let you do that," she shook her head. "Without a reason why." Romana added, keeping her eyes on Crowley. "If you provide me with a reasonable excuse and one that’s believable, I’ll take you." It couldn’t be something for his amusement either, she had to keep history in order. Or at least try to.
"Sweetheart, far be it from me to step into your box. No, you will do it alone, without companions and witnesses. Go there, watch the ship’s course from the point of departure to the point of destination. Come back to daddy and tell what you saw. I’m sure, any gallifreyan infant in arms can do it with one left heel."
"So, demons still have a say..," he mused, when his angel on a silk leash appeared before him, "Interesting." Crowley raised his hand with the bottle, intended to make another drink, but stopped himself. "How’s exile? Any news on air of an angel radio? Do you really miss me, when I have no job for you?"
He wasn’t properly drunk yet, it was just a second opened bottle of Craig before the idea of summoning her in a right way came to the demon’s mind. Could demons be depressed? The answer is no, demons had no reasons to overthink their lifes or afterlifes, they had other more funny business, like murdering, torturing and seducing people. Could the most unusual demon, bending all rules and bans, former blood junkie, be depressed? The answer is, Hell knows.
"Hello, darling," he said and took another drink, "Say, I’ve missed you, too."
Kellen watched him for a moment, slowly stepping closer to his chair. He may not have been fully drunk yet, but it was clear that he was definitely not completely level-headed at the moment.
"I’ve heard nothing useful lately," She told him, "Things have gone pretty quiet."
She considered his question, smiling as he said he missed her. It was nice to hear. He was the first who’d ever shown her kindness or affection.
"Of course I miss you when I’m gone. I’d rather be here than anywhere."
"So, stay," Crowley swung the bottle, checking the contains, and emptied it with one gulp, "To hell with gossips. I will crash anyone, who will open their piehole and bark something about you." He clenched his fist on the bottleneck, as though he was going to throw the bottle against the wall, but looked at the angel and slowly set it on the floor.
"I need a doctor," he leaned back in his chair and set one leg against the knee of the other. "Would you like to be my Jennifer Melfi? Nice talk, you will hand me kleenex and say blandly that our time is up."
The King of Hell looked at her intently and something looking like a despair flashed in his eyes for a second. “Would you? I can pay you. I promise not to yell and not to break things.”
"Why, darling? You have a migraine? Or the idea of eternal life is boring for you?"
"You want me to believe that you are the king of hell. Sir, I maybe crazy but I am not insane enough to believe that you are a demon and rule a fantasy place."
"And do all crazy people have such a healthy scepticism?" Crowley smiled, his eyes flashed red. "If it’s not enough, I have a few tricks to convince you that Hell is a pretty real place and I’m it’s head manager. Would you like to see something particular?"
He raised his head and shook it in the next moment. “Are you going to scare away my clients with your wings or you just like to watch people kissing?” He approached the tree with his hands in his pockets and looked up again, “Maybe I’m a King, but no one in Hell makes this business better than me. All V.I.P. calls are transferred to my phone. Figuratively speaking.”
"On me," he snapped and looked around, shrugging off the unpleasant memories. "Yes," he said finally, "After a few centuries of love and fights we decided to get married. Got old, probably."
"I’m sorry." she said softly, patting his arm as if to comfort him. She then gave a soft smile. "Is it sad that I keep forgetting your not human? Knowing someone for centuries…you must know a lot about her…and her about you."
Crowley squeezed her fingers gratefully and smiled in response. “Lilith had held the contract on my soul, of course, she knows everything about me. All I need to know is that she is a perfect woman and she loves me.”
She brushed his hair from his face, trying to comfort him even as he seemed to descend in his despair and frustrations. “Don’t be scared,” she murmured to him lovingly. “I have seen you at your best and worst. I am still here with you. I am your wife.” She told him, placing a kiss on his temple. “We have a family together. I am not going to leave.”
Lilith knew what was troubling him, what fears were darting around in his head. It didn’t take much to guess, given how Sam had managed to scare him down to his belief in the family.
"You know that you are growing more stable. You’ve been taking your medication. Even my father has noticed that you are behaving better. You are not a threat to us."
He knew it, of course, he knew it. Lilith was so unique, so special. She loved him with all his breakdowns and demons in his head, she followed him and saved him, but even she couldn’t save him from himself. Because he didn’t want to be saved, but also he didn’t want to be a trouble for his family, and it ripped him across. That was the real cause of his fear.
Damien wrapped his hands around her legs, resting his head against her lap. His breath calmed, but he was deciding what to tell. Truth couldn’t be healthy for both of them. He hadn’t taken his medication since his trip to that big construction, where he’d met an alien god and this god healed him without even asking something in return. Now it seemed like a weird dream, but he felt no pain, he had no seizures anymore. The beast in him was free to hunt now, and only love to Lilith and children was an obstacle to became an absolute predator.
"I’m a threat to him," Damien half-whispered and bit his tongue. It was so hard, practically impossible to choose between human and monster, but he couldn’t be both, and each day without killing was making his life more painful, even when he had no seizures. "Talk to him. Tell him, Im sorry for this visit, but… he need to stay away from me." Words fell from his mouth, and he shut his eyes. Hell should open beneath his knees, ceiling should fall on his head, he just signed the verdict to the beast. What will she say? The most clever woman in his world, which conclusions are born in her mind right now? Now he was really scared, but wasn’table to take his words back.