Who: Crowley;ota Where: Near the beach. When: Sunday What: Arriving. Status: Open. Rating:Depends on who answers.
This was certainly..not where he'd gone to sleep. Giving that he didn't, actually, need to sleep in the first place it was rather rude to have found himself moved. And against his will at that. Whoever was in charge would defiantly be getting an earful, not only from him, but likely from the stupid angel as well. Speaking of, where was that idiot winged beast anyway? A small frown flickered to life as, even without wind, the bottom edge of his black coat fanned out as he strolled the sidewalk in front of the beach. This wasn't the stupid city the Anti-christ had been in, of that he was sure, but it was strange none the less.
Sunglasses gleamed as he peered over them slightly, the edge of his pupils holding a yellow tint before he pushed them back up. Clearly, the angel wasn't here, or if he was, it certainly wasn't at this particular spot. Maybe he'd have to take a stroll, or worse, talk to the darling little humans. Because that generally worked out wonderfully for his kind.
"You there! Yes, you. You wouldn't have happened to have seen a bloke, bout yea high, bit british, probably running around frantically shouting about the anti--about a cute little tyke?"He questioned to the nearest person. His tone, if anything, was more annoyed then anything else.