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Two guys and absolutely not a parrot
Who: Crowley, Sunny and Crowley's familiar Magali (NPC)
Where: UofM Hospital
When: Early evening
"We woke up in an abandoned amusement park, there were cannibal clowns, we had to run from them." Crowley had said this countless times since he had gotten out of the high school that morning. He had been disoriented and a little shocked into silence, but he was fine - and he had lost count of how many times he had said that, too. All he wanted now was to go home, shower, eat and then sleep for a week in an actual bed. But did they let him? No. No, they needed to do more tests, some more invasive than others. They hadn't even let him check on the others he had been with. Last he had seen them - and really he had only seen MacKenna upclose - they looked all right, but Crowley really wanted to make sure. And there were other, more pressing things he could be doing instead of being grilled for information in a setup that was one single lampshade away from a spy movie. "I have to get back to the school and get my uncle's car." He muttered to himself after realizing that unless he was mentioning aliens or demons no one was listening. Crowley had, at some point, started to wonder how his uncle had managed when the car keys had been with his nephew inside the school the entire time. He had asked to call - also countless times. But they had taken his phone - and his wallet, and his uncle's keys and his clothes and shoes - and kept saying how his things were being kept safe in a ziplock bag and would be returned to him when he was done.
Was he ever going to be done?
Barring the slightly high blood pressure and heart-rate - no doubt from the fact that he had just gotten out of the school after being stuck in there for a week forced to live through an alternate reality where people with sharp teeth wanted to tear him apart with said teeth and the government had been grinding him for information ever since, as he had pointed out - Crowley was the very picture of health. Or so he had been told. They seemed to be shocked even though he had heard all kids examined so far sported no permanent injuries or side-effects from whatever had happened inside the high school.
Nearing the end of the lovely afternoon Crowley had been give his ziplock bag along with a juice box and a vending machine sandwich. He ignored the food and got dressed, feeling utterly ridiculous in homecoming garb at the hospital ten days later. The second his shoes were on and his things were in his pockets Crowley grabbed the food and shuffled out the room he had been put in. There were lots of people there, lots of worried faces. Hopefully his uncle would be one of them.
He moved through the halls he knew too damn well already, finding the path to the elevators easily. Out the corner of his eye he saw something impossibly red coming at him, and as he heard his name being called with a thick Brazilian accent Crowley let the juice box hang from his teeth by the tiny straw, bracing for slight heaviness on his shoulder. "Hey Magali. My uncle around?"
Where: UofM Hospital
When: Early evening
"We woke up in an abandoned amusement park, there were cannibal clowns, we had to run from them." Crowley had said this countless times since he had gotten out of the high school that morning. He had been disoriented and a little shocked into silence, but he was fine - and he had lost count of how many times he had said that, too. All he wanted now was to go home, shower, eat and then sleep for a week in an actual bed. But did they let him? No. No, they needed to do more tests, some more invasive than others. They hadn't even let him check on the others he had been with. Last he had seen them - and really he had only seen MacKenna upclose - they looked all right, but Crowley really wanted to make sure. And there were other, more pressing things he could be doing instead of being grilled for information in a setup that was one single lampshade away from a spy movie. "I have to get back to the school and get my uncle's car." He muttered to himself after realizing that unless he was mentioning aliens or demons no one was listening. Crowley had, at some point, started to wonder how his uncle had managed when the car keys had been with his nephew inside the school the entire time. He had asked to call - also countless times. But they had taken his phone - and his wallet, and his uncle's keys and his clothes and shoes - and kept saying how his things were being kept safe in a ziplock bag and would be returned to him when he was done.
Was he ever going to be done?
Barring the slightly high blood pressure and heart-rate - no doubt from the fact that he had just gotten out of the school after being stuck in there for a week forced to live through an alternate reality where people with sharp teeth wanted to tear him apart with said teeth and the government had been grinding him for information ever since, as he had pointed out - Crowley was the very picture of health. Or so he had been told. They seemed to be shocked even though he had heard all kids examined so far sported no permanent injuries or side-effects from whatever had happened inside the high school.
Nearing the end of the lovely afternoon Crowley had been give his ziplock bag along with a juice box and a vending machine sandwich. He ignored the food and got dressed, feeling utterly ridiculous in homecoming garb at the hospital ten days later. The second his shoes were on and his things were in his pockets Crowley grabbed the food and shuffled out the room he had been put in. There were lots of people there, lots of worried faces. Hopefully his uncle would be one of them.
He moved through the halls he knew too damn well already, finding the path to the elevators easily. Out the corner of his eye he saw something impossibly red coming at him, and as he heard his name being called with a thick Brazilian accent Crowley let the juice box hang from his teeth by the tiny straw, bracing for slight heaviness on his shoulder. "Hey Magali. My uncle around?"