Crowley had thought that once the bones were accepted and put down, and Kol was sitting and they were both just drinking the scotch, that just maybe they could change the topic into something a little less depressing. But, apparently not. Kol wanted to know about what Crowley had been like when he was human. And that was hardly an entertaining discussion.
Still he had asked, and Crowley would answer, talk about things that he hadn't talked about in centuries, because apparently he couldn't actually deny Kol much. That was something he didn't want to think about too much, didn't want to consider exactly what it all meant. So instead, he simply sighed with a wry smirk.
"Utterly unremarkable." To sum it all up. "I was Scottish. A tailor, actually, hence my appreciation for my dearly departed, amazingly talented and thoroughly eaten one a few weeks ago. I understand the art involved in making the perfect suit." Not that he had been that talented in life. "Inherited the business from my father, my mother was a witch as I've told you. Stubborn woman, very fierce. Makes that Scottish poltergeist in town look remarkably sweet and demure." There was an actual hint of affection in his voice as he spoke of his mother, one of the very few he had cared about in life.
"I was married, loathed the woman. Had a son, whiny little shit who probably wasn't mine anyway. Gavin. Hated him, he hated me." That was his life, really. Boring. The only person he cared about, or who cared about him was his mother, and after she was gone, Fergus McLeod only had the spells she had taught him. "So, I summoned a crossroads demon, made a deal, and ten years later, the hounds came for me and I went to the Pit. Became a demon." Not an easy process, having one's soul twisted and blackened into being a demon was hardly fun, but he had managed it. Even come through it with some modicum of sanity. "So there you have it. I was bored, frustrated, and nothing of any interest to anyone, I wanted to become something more, so I did. Eventually."