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mekachu04there wass no reason to trust gabriel - but there was also little other options let to crawoley. Azirpahle wasn't on earth anymore, and crowley suriving a one man rescure attempt on heaven was a death sentace for both of them.
Getting croawly to go back to Hell was *probbaly* a trap, though he was pretty sure if gabriel was involved, it was as a pawn. subterfuge wasn't really the angel's style. But it was Micheal's style, as he'd learned long ago from half whicpered confessions from azirpahle, even if his own angel wasn't allowing himself to connect the pieces.
He also recognised the half manic look in Gabriels eyes - the building of /questions/ that no angel was allowed to hold, much less dare to speak them. Heaven worked becuse angels followed their orders,a nd that was that. The why's didn't matter. the reaon's where for the archangels to know, and you just kept your head down. or, didn't, in croalwy's case, and found yuorself on the outs real quick.
And then for Gabriel to imply that not even archangels got to be in the know. that...others disappeared still.
Craolwy wasn't aware of any new fallen angels - he'd been working under the assumtion that there was jsut the mass exidus in the beginging, and that was that. Granted, crowley also made a point to stay out Hell as muhc as possible. Was it possible he'd missed somehting as big as this by trying to stay aloof?
It.. it had been one of the reason's he'd dared azirpahle to push ont heose boundress. he didn't actually think the angel would be in danger.
Just the thought of it made him panic, as he spilled out in a grimmer corridor of hell, slithereing int he shadows frantically as he moved deeper. He was hoping being limbless might prevent him form being regocnized too quickly; demon's had stoppepd looking at each otheres true forms along time ago. it was an aweful reminder of the lake, or ingues that would never heal.
Injuries that azirpahle might be facing very quickly.
The smell of sulpher thickens theair. the building crumbles around him the further he gows, old and unkept. the only things here beside the lake is Satan's dwellings. Even Lucifer doens't come down here anymore.
the heat joins the smell, and the air is thick and heavy. once the blue light of the flames stars to glow int he miasma, crowley pulls his limbs back into order, his wings work better on the more compact body, even if his feet protest their existance nad he finds it harder to stand than usual. if he tookt he time to look, he'd see his panic had him still mostly scales, skina nd hair too complicated to fabricate right now.
The lake stratches out endlessly before him. above - above is the tear between Heaven and Hell - a one way pass from grace to damnation, an anti galaxy idally spinning.
the end of a black hole.
He'll have to be diligant and unwavering, if he wasn't to spot anyone falling in time to try and catch them before they hit the lake. it's a long fall, but it's a far flight, and without knowing a when, crowley is hesitantt ot start circling. He doesn't know how long he can remiain airborn, and he doesn't want to draw the wrong type of attnetion.
Untilamtly.
It won't matter.
He'll never know if someone recognised him whe ntey reported him, or if Hastur managed to piece it together from 'very large snake' but regardless, he was takeled from behind suddenly, mecililly grip on his wing as they where thrown tot he ground.
Hastur was scream exlicitives at him, words pouring out in an endlass toumble ans he rained blows down, trying to tear his wings out, biting and thrashing and sobbing hate. rowley grabbled with him as best as he could, breaking a wing in the process of knocking hastur off of him, only for the demon to tacking him once again, this time face to face.
crowley could sence a crowd growing to pay witness,a nd he fuaght back jsut as dirty, letting his legs slip away to coil around hastur, who just disolved into maggots to try and get a new grib on him.
No one stepped int o help, or break it up, chanting and jerring. they likely didn't care who won one way or the other, just there for the thrill of a fight.
And then it went quite. even hastur froze in his onslaught, and crolwey turned to look at the tear in horror as it came alive - lightning cracking impossible form it;s center.
It was opening.
Someone was Falling.
And croalwy screamed as he crawlyed to the lake, to battered and broken to life his wings to fly, condemmed to watching fromt he sidelines. He'd swim if he had too - maybe he could no longer prevent azirpahle from falling, but he would not let the angel hit the lake alone.
He would not...
Not...
...
Lucifer was standing over him, his face carefully blank.
tears streaming from his face, corlwey could only look up at him beseachingly. his jaw trembled, and he forced the words past broken teeth, "Lord... He's my friend."
Lucifer looked at the tear. any moment now. "We are Demons. we don't have friends."
"I Love him."
Getting croawly to go back to Hell was *probbaly* a trap, though he was pretty sure if gabriel was involved, it was as a pawn. subterfuge wasn't really the angel's style. But it was Micheal's style, as he'd learned long ago from half whicpered confessions from azirpahle, even if his own angel wasn't allowing himself to connect the pieces.
He also recognised the half manic look in Gabriels eyes - the building of /questions/ that no angel was allowed to hold, much less dare to speak them. Heaven worked becuse angels followed their orders,a nd that was that. The why's didn't matter. the reaon's where for the archangels to know, and you just kept your head down. or, didn't, in croalwy's case, and found yuorself on the outs real quick.
And then for Gabriel to imply that not even archangels got to be in the know. that...others disappeared still.
Craolwy wasn't aware of any new fallen angels - he'd been working under the assumtion that there was jsut the mass exidus in the beginging, and that was that. Granted, crowley also made a point to stay out Hell as muhc as possible. Was it possible he'd missed somehting as big as this by trying to stay aloof?
It.. it had been one of the reason's he'd dared azirpahle to push ont heose boundress. he didn't actually think the angel would be in danger.
Just the thought of it made him panic, as he spilled out in a grimmer corridor of hell, slithereing int he shadows frantically as he moved deeper. He was hoping being limbless might prevent him form being regocnized too quickly; demon's had stoppepd looking at each otheres true forms along time ago. it was an aweful reminder of the lake, or ingues that would never heal.
Injuries that azirpahle might be facing very quickly.
The smell of sulpher thickens theair. the building crumbles around him the further he gows, old and unkept. the only things here beside the lake is Satan's dwellings. Even Lucifer doens't come down here anymore.
the heat joins the smell, and the air is thick and heavy. once the blue light of the flames stars to glow int he miasma, crowley pulls his limbs back into order, his wings work better on the more compact body, even if his feet protest their existance nad he finds it harder to stand than usual. if he tookt he time to look, he'd see his panic had him still mostly scales, skina nd hair too complicated to fabricate right now.
The lake stratches out endlessly before him. above - above is the tear between Heaven and Hell - a one way pass from grace to damnation, an anti galaxy idally spinning.
the end of a black hole.
He'll have to be diligant and unwavering, if he wasn't to spot anyone falling in time to try and catch them before they hit the lake. it's a long fall, but it's a far flight, and without knowing a when, crowley is hesitantt ot start circling. He doesn't know how long he can remiain airborn, and he doesn't want to draw the wrong type of attnetion.
Untilamtly.
It won't matter.
He'll never know if someone recognised him whe ntey reported him, or if Hastur managed to piece it together from 'very large snake' but regardless, he was takeled from behind suddenly, mecililly grip on his wing as they where thrown tot he ground.
Hastur was scream exlicitives at him, words pouring out in an endlass toumble ans he rained blows down, trying to tear his wings out, biting and thrashing and sobbing hate. rowley grabbled with him as best as he could, breaking a wing in the process of knocking hastur off of him, only for the demon to tacking him once again, this time face to face.
crowley could sence a crowd growing to pay witness,a nd he fuaght back jsut as dirty, letting his legs slip away to coil around hastur, who just disolved into maggots to try and get a new grib on him.
No one stepped int o help, or break it up, chanting and jerring. they likely didn't care who won one way or the other, just there for the thrill of a fight.
And then it went quite. even hastur froze in his onslaught, and crolwey turned to look at the tear in horror as it came alive - lightning cracking impossible form it;s center.
It was opening.
Someone was Falling.
And croalwy screamed as he crawlyed to the lake, to battered and broken to life his wings to fly, condemmed to watching fromt he sidelines. He'd swim if he had too - maybe he could no longer prevent azirpahle from falling, but he would not let the angel hit the lake alone.
He would not...
Not...
...
Lucifer was standing over him, his face carefully blank.
tears streaming from his face, corlwey could only look up at him beseachingly. his jaw trembled, and he forced the words past broken teeth, "Lord... He's my friend."
Lucifer looked at the tear. any moment now. "We are Demons. we don't have friends."
"I Love him."
