Crowley [Supernatural] (minesbigger) wrote in ridgewayresort, @ 2011-07-28 11:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | crowley |
Who: Crowley, OTA who might encounter him.
What: Stalking
Where: The Harvelle-Winchester house grounds
When: After the sun goes down
Warnings: Creeper's gonna creep.
It had taken a couple days to realise he wasn't the only one affected, he'd just assumed Gabriel had figured out some spell to neutralise his powers. He lacked the energy, and interest, to bother launching an attack on his enemy. He just stayed in bed, at least until hunger like he hadn't known for some time drove him to look for something to eat. Even then, when he looked out the window to the world beyond his cabin, he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it.
He'd screwed up, once and for all. he'd pushed away the one good thing in his life. He'd completely alienated her. She had every right and reason to hate him, and he had no one to blame but himself. He'd played one too many games, he'd pushed the wrong button. His well planned play to keep the wedge between Anna and the moron gang had back fired. The wedge was on his side of the fence now, and he knew without doubt there was no getting over it. Not this time.
As he stood at his back door, seeking some relief from the stifling heat of the house, he heard a mournful bark. He knew that bark. He'd lost Johann to Anna, when she left him. All his insistence to make the hound loyal to the angel had paid off. Johann had chosen Anna, in the end. Well, Crowley might have lost the girl, but the dog was another matter.
He pushed the door open and headed outside. He wore nothing more than a pair of sweats, not even shoes. He didn't care. It was so damn hot, he'd prefer to wear nothing at all. He headed purposefully toward the Harvelle-Winchester home, muttering obscenities directed at the home's occupants as he ignored the discomfort of walking in bare feet across the earth. Reaching the property, he slowed his step, eyes already adjusted to the darkness.
Johann bounded across the yard toward him, and stopped. The hound didn't bare teeth, but his posture would give most men cause to hesitate. Crowley put a hand out, as if greeting an unfamiliar dog. Johann sniffed, then sauntered away, back to his place at the side of the porch steps. Crowley sighed and stood there, uncertain and feeling terribly and utterly alone. Even his hound had snubbed him.