Anthony J. Crowley (i_sauntereddown) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-01-25 09:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | anthony crowley, gabriel |
Well, Bugger [open]
Crowley was confused. Not because he couldn’t find his flat, because after driving down the City’s streets at speeds the streets weren’t designed for, he found it, parked the Bentley and went inside. Then he did what he had intended to do from the second he left the Asylum. He took a sleep. A few days long sleep. When he did wake it was with a start and a hand to the forehead. Something wasn’t sitting right at all.
He’d gone through his normal routine of scaring his house plants, by taking one that wasn’t quite as lush as the others, chuckled aloud and left the flat with it only to return moments later with an empty pot. It was quite effective, the plants that had drooped in his absence at Arkham perked up immediately. Then he took up his sprayer and misted the leaves while thinking on the events of the other day.
It just wasn’t sitting right, that human. He knew a demon when he saw one, which generally wasn’t the case, though to be fair, Crowley hadn’t had his sunglasses on at the time. Even then, he was used to getting comments like, “wicked contacts there, Mister.” Indeed. But this human immediately went to demon. An odd connection to make in this City. Though, Crowley had the suspicion that man was new to the City. He seemed… displaced.
Plus he had that Holy Water. It wasn’t common for men not-of-the-cloth to carry Holy Water around these days, was it? Perhaps the man was part of that Witchfinder Army. They were kind of… well useless mostly, but they were a right headache when Mr. Shadwell didn’t listen properly to what he was told. But that was years ago. Maybe some young upstart, like the man to willing to punch a demon, had taken over the practice.
Crowley wanted lunch. It would have been better to have someone to share lunch with, because really, dining alone felt a touch on the pathetic side if you were accustomed to dining with others. Sunglasses on, suit in perfect place and Bentley unscathed from it’s time on the street Crowley got in and drove down toward the more populated area. He’d find something to eat, then think more on the strange human with the Holy Water. Something told him that human was going to make enjoying time above a pain in the rear.
Bentley parked, he got out and started down the street. Bentley parked properly this time rather than in the middle of the road. A moment later he stopped, fiddled around with the weight in his pocket, and pulled out the Blackberry looking thing that he had been given when he left the Asylum along with the rest of his effects. He was rather fond of actual Blackberries and other smartphones. Proud of their creation as well. If that didn’t get him commendation down below and off their ‘list’ he didn’t know what would.
He fiddled with it for a moment, then dialed the number he used to know Aziraphale to be at. It didn’t connect. In fact, when the message played telling him that there was no such number, Crowley vaguely heard his own voice in his head say, “Well, Crawly, what did you expect?”
What he actually said when he cancelled the call was, “bugger.”