InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Are you Jeff Vader?"

anthony j. crowley (flashbastard) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-08-22 02:52:00

Entry tags:

anthony j. crowley, john druitt

WHO: Anthony J. Crowley and John Druitt
WHAT: Catching up.
WHEN: A bit after Crowley's return to Colligo.
WHERE: The Serpent's Den
RATING: TBD
STATUS: In Progress

Although he would be loathe to admit such a thing to just anyone, Crowley was rather fond of his plants. Yes, he had ones back home as well but each and every plant that he cared for was different. Unique. So while he'd been content to deal with the ones back home while he was there, some part of him had rather missed the ones in Colligo. So after making certain to put up a note on the network announcing his return, he'd gone to his club to check on the progress the plants there had made in his absence.

Needless to say, he wasn't very impressed.

Now, most people might have blamed the man who had been left in charge of his club, and therefore all of the things within. However Crowley wasn't most people. In fact, he wasn't a person at all. He had also known, when filling out the tedious paperwork to pass ownership along in the event he was sent back to his own reality, that John Druitt was going to find running a nightclub a difficult enough challenge without adding the careful nurturing of his plants to the list as well. So he'd simply explained to his plants that, should he leave, they were going to be responsible for their own growth. And, when - not if, but when - he returned, if they hadn't lived up to their potential, they would be the ones held responsible.

"Really," the demon tsked as he plucked a rather pathetic looking fern up from its place on the windowsill, "did you think I was joking? Or that I wouldn't be back? I did warn you." And with that, the demon tossed the plant out the window, lips curving upward ever so slightly as the shattering of the glass made quite the noise. Good. It was always easier to teach the others a lesson when things sounded even scarier than they actually were.

Pulling a cigarette pack from his pocket, he raised a cigarette to his lips and lit it, inhaling and then exhaling slowly before casually glancing over his shoulder at the other being present in the room. "You know," he said casually as he once more began wandering aimlessly from one plant to the next, eyeing them over the brim of his sunglasses, "you really did do a better job than I'd expected. You might not agree with me, John, but proprietorship of an establishment is something you've a knack for. You ought to consider... and just what have we here?"

Immediately he dropped to a crouch in front of another plant, this one withered entirely on one side and already beginning to turn brown around the edges. "Unacceptable," he snapped, snatching the potted plant up and tossing it out the same window which, once again, made the same loud shattering sound before the glass was fixed once more. A heavy sigh and shake of his head then Crowley turned back to his friend with a smile as though the entire incident hadn't even happened. "Having a way to bide your time during the quieter moments can only help," he pointed out reasonably.

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exquisiterush
2011-08-22 08:40 pm UTC (link)

Most people would have been concerned at a friend having a vaguely threatening conversation with plants while chucking them out windows, but John Druitt wasn't most people. He was used to Crowley's behavioural quirks and bouts of planticide. Besides, he'd dealt with stranger individuals than the fallen angel, and he found him to be rather refreshing if he was being completely honest. He had found himself missing Crowley in the demon's absence, and he was relieved that he had returned. He didn't have very many friends outside the Sanctuary, and he had not relished losing one. Besides, now Crowley could resume running his club, and he could cease pretending he had even the vaguest idea what he was doing.

Some people surely assumed that his friendship with Crowley was simply the product of gratitude over the demon removing his parasite, but that was far from the truth. He had a great deal in common with the other man, or rather man-shaped being, and he genuinely enjoyed his company. Crowley appreciated good alcohol and culture and had no more use for idiocy than John did himself. In some ways he felt that Crowley understood him better than perhaps anyone else. They had both made their mistakes in the past, and neither made any excuses or tried to hide from the things that had done. They moved on and were the better for it. He respected Crowley a great deal, even with his rather bemusing habit of murdering houseplants.

"Now," he said with a wry smile, pouring two drinks and passing one to his friend, "what was it you were saying I ought to consider? Because if the answer is that I should keep your club for you, I'm afraid the answer is no. I looked after it as a favour, under the assumption you would eventually return, but it really doesn't suit me. And if you think I should take up tormenting plants, well...you just do it so much better than I ever would. I could hardly hope to measure up." He sighed. "But you're right, of course. I do need a way to bide my time. Unfortunately, there is little need for someone with an understanding of Victorian law, and even less need for someone well versed in the slitting of throats. Still, if you have any suggestions, I am all ears, old boy."

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flashbastard
2011-09-09 04:14 am UTC (link)

Taking the drink with a tip of his head, the corners of Crowley's mouth quirked upward into a lazy grin. "Well," he drawled as the grin began to grow into something much more resembling a smirk, "you could consider teaching a course on Victorian law with a rather unforgiving policy of those who don't quite measure up..." Which, of course, was a joke. Or, at least, mostly a joke. With Crowley, it was frankly a little hard to say, sometimes. The fact that he knew the man wouldn't go for the idea, however, meant he'd claim it was a joke if asked and that was what really mattered.

Tossing the drink back, the demon finished it off with a drag from his cigarette before letting out a puff of unneeded air and smoke. "Or," he reasoned, "barring that, you could consider assisting me with this old place." Leaning lightly against the counter, he waved his free hand about to indicate the club. "After all, we both know I'm rather terrible at the business aspect of it all. Far too many rules and regulations and paperwork."

Once again that smirk was back as he turned to pour himself another drink. Glancing over his shoulder at Druitt, he tacked on smoothly, "You, however, have quite a knack for the more..." His lip rose slightly into a distasteful expression, "mundane aspects of this rather fabulous line of work while I happen to be quite the expert at keeping the patrons lined up round the corner." His drink poured, he turned back around and raised his cigarette to his lips, glancing over at the other man with slitted pupils positively shining with all of the ideas he had to ensure just such a thing.

"We really would make quite the pair," he added smoothly. And therein lied the true suggestion he was making. A partnership, no more and certainly no less, that allowed Druitt something to do other than follow about after Helen Magnus like a stray looking for scraps while also enabling Crowley to focus his attention on keeping the club at the peak of its popularity through whatever somewhat questionable means he could come up with.

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exquisiterush
2011-09-16 05:34 pm UTC (link)

John inclined his head in acknowledgement at the joking comment, a small smile on his face as he pretended to consider its merit. "I suppose that could be quite the effective teaching tool," he said, "though I'm not sure how the administration would react to my treating my students as you do your plants. They can be so very touchy when it comes to corporal punishment. And murder. Still, it would get the students' attention if nothing else." He shook his head, taking a sip of his own drink as he considered the situation with more seriousness this time. He really did need to do something with his life here, and becoming a murderous professor wasn't really a practical solution.

Assisting Crowley with the business aspects of the club, however, was much more feasible. And enjoyable, considerng how pleasant he found the demon's company. Still, it wouldn't do to give in to the idea too easily. That would be boring, and Crowley didn't seem to appreciate boredom all that much. "Ah, yes," he said instead, his tone just light enough to hint that he was hardly serious, "the glamour of rules and regulations and paperwork. How could anyone hope to resist such charms? Come now, old boy, you must have developed better techniques to tempt people after all your many millennia as a demon than pointing out all the unpleasant aspects of the job."

Still, it was an agreeable idea, particularly with the implications that it would be a partnership. He would have something to hold his focus and keep him from feeling purposeless in this city, and he would be working with someone he liked and respected. All in all, there were far worse offers he could have received. "Still," he said finally, "I suppose it would be quite cruel of me to leave you to the tender mercies of the paperwork without anyone to assist you. And I should hate to think one of my only sources of intelligent conversation was undone by the mundane inevitabilities of his work." He smiled. "And we really would be quite the pair." It wasn't quite a yes, but close enough.

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