InsaneJournal

While many seemed to hate this feeling of needing to tell the truth, Crowley didn't mind it so much. He'd spent much of his life finding a way around having to tell the truth or bending it in his favor that to him, the events that were transpiring didn't matter much or impact him. In fact, it had, thus far, led to some interesting conversations. Who was he to refuse the opportunity to play like this around others? So when the young lass had strong-armed him (well, not truly, but who was he to turn down such a date?) into buying her a drink at the bar, of course Crowley agreed.

Dressed in his favored black trousers and a black button up shirt, Crowley looked quite dashing. His tie was red tonight, in favor of being a little different, and he found himself in the familiar night club in town. Bon Temps was a fascinating concept and place, but really, it was no different than few locations back home that he'd often run into, depending upon the situation.

He didn't know much about the young woman whom he was buying a drink for tonight. He trusted that she knew who he was by now. Crowley didn't exactly hide his identity, after all. No need here, or so it seemed. This place was quite a bit different than home in that regard, of which he was both grateful and cursed. Grateful because it meant he had an opportunity to explore things differently. Cursed because it certainly did make it harder to fulfill his background as a former crossroads demon. Luckily, none had asked yet how he'd become the King of Hell, but Crowley was fully enjoying the truth game that they were playing. At least until the Winchesters would ruin it for him by solving the matter. Ah, if only certain beings from home were here. He'd have so many questions.

Sitting at a bar stool, Crowley ordered himself whiskey on the rocks with an umbrella for fun, even if he did get a look from the bartender for doing so.