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there's a spot of rust on one of the benches at the park. Angel is running a little late today - there was an estate sale this morning he'd expressed interest in, so Crowley is not worried. He'd wrapped up his own spot of mischief early so he though to kill some time torment the ducks.
They flock to him when he settles in, but they're not really bothering him, just looking for Aziraphale. they've long learned that food from him comes at a cost, and only the very young or the very hungry bother to pester him. they normally feed quite well here, so the hungry is usually one ones that have just come in on migration, and Crowley will still dunk them, but he doesn't hold them under for fear they don't actually have the energy to spare.
the young ones are fair game. they must learn some how after all. no doubt by know they've been told by there betters; Crowley's just there to remind them to mind their elders.
once he's run out of the bag of peas, he stretched out in the sun to wait, and that's when his fingers brushed the small patch where the protective pant has chipped away and the metal begins to move into the next natural part of it's life.
Rusting over and breaking down.
In this realm, nothing is meant to last forever. its a reminder that for humans. all things must end. they don't realize that it nearly all did end not to terribly long ago, but things worked themselves out so the earth clock could keep right on ticking.
and even then, Crowley knows that the rust doesn't mean the end. not really. the metal will break down to it's most basic parts, and will be consumes back into the cycle only to move on to it's next form. little bacteria to feed on it, and in turn feed others. big ol' cycle, the earth was. the Almighty had been a fan of that, systems that would beak down and feed into themselves.
in hindsight, she was rather fond of seeing things up to move on autopilot, and Crowley hated to wonder just how much of this was actually the Plan, and what was just, the plan. How much intervention had Heaven really been meant to do, if any? Because truthfully, Hell really only got involved because Heaven was involved. Lucifer really only cared about messing up the garden in retaliation for he fall. after than, he generally let Satan and the dark counsel make the calls.
Went a long way to why Crowley had gotten favored in the first place. He'd been the first to figure out how to get in, the only really, and He'd carried out Hells First Order to the satisfaction. Go up There and make trouble. he'd made to much trouble the whole garden had to be scrapped and tossed out.
it didn't have the staying power Crowley liked to think it did with the councl, but Lucifer had always stepped up when things started to get to be more than Crowley could handle, and it caused resentment sure, but it bought Crowley enough time to smooth things over and do better.
bits of the rust flaked off under his nail. only three persons in existence had ever called him darling and meant it. Aziraphale, Freddie, and Lucifer, though that hadn't started until after the Bentley decided that she liked Mr. Bulsara quite a lot, and refused to let him listen to anyone else. those first few radio calls from the boss after than had been quite unnerving. for a moment, Crowley forgot himself, and really thought Freddie had found a way to reach out, back tot he mortal realm.
He still had some conflicted feelings of Lucifer stealing the singer's voice. it had been back enough when the group was still active, but after his passing, Crowley had nearly ripped the radio immediately out of his car the moment it had crackled to life.
At least it hadn't been Dagon or Hastur. he wasn't sure how he lucked out on that one.
they'd - well Hastur - had tried to taunt him a time or two once he retied, but it was never though the Bentley, and Crowley had to wonder if Adam had had anything to do with that. he already owed the kid a thousand times over for not ending the world, never mind restoring not just his baby, but Aziraphale's nest too.
it had taken them a while to notice it, but it wasn't just the Just William books that had changed - there had been one more alteration, one that strengthened Crowley's believe that the radio silence was Adam's doing. The bookshop had been awarded in such a way that no one could materialize in side it. Unfortunately, not even though the human phone line (though Crowley was willing to risk it during /that day/). You had to use the front door. Or the circle had to be activated.
Eventually, they did talk about what happen the day Aziraphale had died ("Discoperated Dear! nothing so... dreadful") and it had taken quite a bit to calm Crowley down from going after Shadwell in retaliation. the man had.... oddly come though in the end, in his own way, and Crowley had known him long enough to not really be surprised by his more erratic behavior. and, really. he hadn't meant to kill anyone, he though he was exorcising a demon from his employer.
Crowley had stayed silence as Aziraphale verbally worked though the day's revelation, letting his friend come to terms with it in his own time, and offering supper to whatever conclusion Azriaphale needed to come up with to cope.
it still didn't explain the fire - Crowley had though that it must of been Hastur and Hell's work, but he admitted he was rather out of sorts during the whole thing and couldn't tell at this point if it had actually been hellfire or not. But he'd walked in and survived, so it couldn't be holy fire either, which had been Aziraphale's assumption once he'd come to terms wit his home having been burnt down, having been some last action of Gabriel or the Metatron or even the Almighty herself.
Crowley was reasonably certain it wouldn't have been the Almighty either way, and despite being a demon, he had assured Aziraphale of that many times.
which lead them to talking about the circle, and Aziraphale planing out how that conversation had gone (they might have been a little drunk at this point, so placating the whose things hadn't seems to childish and ridiculous to them at the time.)
and then Aziraphale had pulled aside the rug to show the circle - something Crowley had known was there in a vague way, but had never actually seen before - and while there was still something drawn there, Aziraphale had no idea what it was was, or how to activate it. even once sober, he still didn't recognize it, and the two of them even tried to open it to see if it was to the Metatron but nothing happened. Crowley couldn't sense anything heaven;y wit the design, there was nothing remotely off putting to him, to which the demon was pretty sure he would have felt /something/ if the circle was connected to heaven.
after a lengthy discussion, they ended up covering back up and drinking until they where no longer worried about ti.
They flock to him when he settles in, but they're not really bothering him, just looking for Aziraphale. they've long learned that food from him comes at a cost, and only the very young or the very hungry bother to pester him. they normally feed quite well here, so the hungry is usually one ones that have just come in on migration, and Crowley will still dunk them, but he doesn't hold them under for fear they don't actually have the energy to spare.
the young ones are fair game. they must learn some how after all. no doubt by know they've been told by there betters; Crowley's just there to remind them to mind their elders.
once he's run out of the bag of peas, he stretched out in the sun to wait, and that's when his fingers brushed the small patch where the protective pant has chipped away and the metal begins to move into the next natural part of it's life.
Rusting over and breaking down.
In this realm, nothing is meant to last forever. its a reminder that for humans. all things must end. they don't realize that it nearly all did end not to terribly long ago, but things worked themselves out so the earth clock could keep right on ticking.
and even then, Crowley knows that the rust doesn't mean the end. not really. the metal will break down to it's most basic parts, and will be consumes back into the cycle only to move on to it's next form. little bacteria to feed on it, and in turn feed others. big ol' cycle, the earth was. the Almighty had been a fan of that, systems that would beak down and feed into themselves.
in hindsight, she was rather fond of seeing things up to move on autopilot, and Crowley hated to wonder just how much of this was actually the Plan, and what was just, the plan. How much intervention had Heaven really been meant to do, if any? Because truthfully, Hell really only got involved because Heaven was involved. Lucifer really only cared about messing up the garden in retaliation for he fall. after than, he generally let Satan and the dark counsel make the calls.
Went a long way to why Crowley had gotten favored in the first place. He'd been the first to figure out how to get in, the only really, and He'd carried out Hells First Order to the satisfaction. Go up There and make trouble. he'd made to much trouble the whole garden had to be scrapped and tossed out.
it didn't have the staying power Crowley liked to think it did with the councl, but Lucifer had always stepped up when things started to get to be more than Crowley could handle, and it caused resentment sure, but it bought Crowley enough time to smooth things over and do better.
bits of the rust flaked off under his nail. only three persons in existence had ever called him darling and meant it. Aziraphale, Freddie, and Lucifer, though that hadn't started until after the Bentley decided that she liked Mr. Bulsara quite a lot, and refused to let him listen to anyone else. those first few radio calls from the boss after than had been quite unnerving. for a moment, Crowley forgot himself, and really thought Freddie had found a way to reach out, back tot he mortal realm.
He still had some conflicted feelings of Lucifer stealing the singer's voice. it had been back enough when the group was still active, but after his passing, Crowley had nearly ripped the radio immediately out of his car the moment it had crackled to life.
At least it hadn't been Dagon or Hastur. he wasn't sure how he lucked out on that one.
they'd - well Hastur - had tried to taunt him a time or two once he retied, but it was never though the Bentley, and Crowley had to wonder if Adam had had anything to do with that. he already owed the kid a thousand times over for not ending the world, never mind restoring not just his baby, but Aziraphale's nest too.
it had taken them a while to notice it, but it wasn't just the Just William books that had changed - there had been one more alteration, one that strengthened Crowley's believe that the radio silence was Adam's doing. The bookshop had been awarded in such a way that no one could materialize in side it. Unfortunately, not even though the human phone line (though Crowley was willing to risk it during /that day/). You had to use the front door. Or the circle had to be activated.
Eventually, they did talk about what happen the day Aziraphale had died ("Discoperated Dear! nothing so... dreadful") and it had taken quite a bit to calm Crowley down from going after Shadwell in retaliation. the man had.... oddly come though in the end, in his own way, and Crowley had known him long enough to not really be surprised by his more erratic behavior. and, really. he hadn't meant to kill anyone, he though he was exorcising a demon from his employer.
Crowley had stayed silence as Aziraphale verbally worked though the day's revelation, letting his friend come to terms with it in his own time, and offering supper to whatever conclusion Azriaphale needed to come up with to cope.
it still didn't explain the fire - Crowley had though that it must of been Hastur and Hell's work, but he admitted he was rather out of sorts during the whole thing and couldn't tell at this point if it had actually been hellfire or not. But he'd walked in and survived, so it couldn't be holy fire either, which had been Aziraphale's assumption once he'd come to terms wit his home having been burnt down, having been some last action of Gabriel or the Metatron or even the Almighty herself.
Crowley was reasonably certain it wouldn't have been the Almighty either way, and despite being a demon, he had assured Aziraphale of that many times.
which lead them to talking about the circle, and Aziraphale planing out how that conversation had gone (they might have been a little drunk at this point, so placating the whose things hadn't seems to childish and ridiculous to them at the time.)
and then Aziraphale had pulled aside the rug to show the circle - something Crowley had known was there in a vague way, but had never actually seen before - and while there was still something drawn there, Aziraphale had no idea what it was was, or how to activate it. even once sober, he still didn't recognize it, and the two of them even tried to open it to see if it was to the Metatron but nothing happened. Crowley couldn't sense anything heaven;y wit the design, there was nothing remotely off putting to him, to which the demon was pretty sure he would have felt /something/ if the circle was connected to heaven.
after a lengthy discussion, they ended up covering back up and drinking until they where no longer worried about ti.
