Eustass Kidd for Pirate King

they'd torn him out of his corporation - Crowley would have to address that one day - and once in the human realm Crowley felt Aziraphale slip from his sight as he himself slid back into the mortal realm. He couldn't feel his angel in his arms as the material world formed around him, but Crowley /knew/ he was still there, just as he knew that (....)

Time had started somewhere on his desperate escape, and Crowley held his burden close as he fled the stairwell to disappear into the shadows of the grey (realm)

His gut reaction would have been to take Aziraphale back to his bookshop - the feel of home hopefully would keep him sane until Crowley found a better way to keep the angel tethered here.

But Micheal would be itching to retaliate for their recent discorperation. And Crowley sure how long the archangels would be distracted by the throne's he'd set loose.

no... no hunkering down right now put too big of a target on them. he needed to get Aziraphale back into a body, and he needed to get them somewhere unfamiliar to either of their past sides.

---

He'd never had the displeasure of meeting Shadwell at the man's home, but he'd called enough that he had the man's home number memorized, and getting an address wasn't much of a stretch. Crowley was just hoping that Nice Woman still was close to him. hopefully Shadwell could lead me to her and she could help him keep Aziraphale safe until he could procure a body. he didn't want the woman involved any further if he could help it, but he needed her help in the interim.

Nothing looked special about this particular throne at first, but once Crowley freed them, the angel remained looking at him, stoic and calm, even as Quelamia differed themselves before them. The other angels had exploded in power when released, like stretching out after being forced still for too long.

this one barely moved, the only sign it was free was the flicker of inter flame and the slow rotation of their wheels.

Crowley wasn't sure what he'd just freed, but he felt nervous for the first time.

"I believe i heard you are called Crowley," the throne said finally, and Crowley found himself nodding mutely.

"The archangels have spoken of you quite a lot in recent times. A real thorn in their side it seems. Along with a Principality."

"Aziraphale." he offered, "I'm came here to find him."

"I've never heard of a Principality by that name; where they created post rebellion?"

"I un.. nah, i think he fought in it, actually? We uh... we don't talk about it if we can help it."

"I see." the wheels turned lazily, and it regarded Quelamia, "have them look for anyone they don't know; Gabriel seemed the most aggravated by these two, so don't look here in the hall - try something more in the open. it may not look like a pillar at all. it wouldn't need to be so wide to contain a principality."

They looked to Crowley, "Do you know what you've started in motion, Demon Crowley?"

"Something that's going to piss off Gabriel and Micheal. Hopefully something that gets me my friend back. After that, i don't really care."

"You may have started a new rebellion."

"Demon, remember. I don't care. I'm selfish. I just want Aziraphale back."

"who are you Demon? Why have you come to Heaven?" the angel accused, "To spread discord and strife?"

any sympathy Crowley had was gone in a flash, and he tensed up, frowning, "sorry freeing you was a stain on heaven's reputation, won't do it again. i'll just be getting my friend, and leaving. promise i won't try to help anybody else again."

the throne looks ashamed at least, its form moving cautiously, as if to gesture for Crowley to wait. "Why did you free me, truly?"

"How could i not...." he looked helplessly at the collection of trapped angels. "Are you all... aware? because it... it looks like you are."

"we are," conceded the throne.

"I came up here to rescuse my friend, and to leave. so yes. in a way, i'm here to spread strife, sure. But.. that's not my endgame. I just want my friend."

"Your friend, are they another demon?"

"Satan no! no, they're the best damn angel left around here!.... and .... i just can't get anybody up here to realize that." he trailed off, glaring down at his own clenched fists.

the throne softened around the edges, "I haven't heard either side talk about the other like that in a very long time demon." it murmured, a soft sad chime of bells.

Swallowing thickly, Crowley force himself to relax, unclenching his fists. "Crowley."

"Hello Crowley, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Quelamia. Thank you. for freeing me."

Crowley nodded, feeling calmer.

"Please show me how to free the others, so we can help you find your friend. The angel."

the once ever present beat of time's sand tricking by is quiet, leaving only the inconsequential hammering of his own corporeal heart to fill the silence. he's on edge, waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop - what has saved him from the wrath of heaven now hunting him in the drag between seconds.

a pause in time this great would have let him empty and drained by now - it would have consumed his own essence to maintain a (hold this long) yet what ever is here seems unrushed and content to only watch him. stalk him.

the baser part of him - the part so unconcerned with the plight and well being of others that caused him to ask callous questions, so hatefully sow discord and distress in his fellow angels that he knew in his heart absolute why he'd been shunned from their ranks - tell shim to press this advantage; to flee while its grasp was still strong and get as far away from heavens great hall in the between-time, to distance himself from the smiting that would no doubt be organized against him as soon as time regained it footing.

the other part of him - the part that once asked a specific angel such cruel questions, only to feel a rush of shame and awe when they blurted out the truth in a rush to someone they knew would hold it against them, to feel a sense of protectiveness toward an enemy so terrified of their choice to help they sought solace in the first being to approach them, never you mind if that was a demon - knew that they could never turn away alone now; they marched on heaven for a reason, and the only acceptable failure in that goal was annihilation. regardless of the outcome, they would never be able to pull this trick a second time. there was no live to fight another day this time.

this wasn't a go big or go home moment. this was a save Aziraphale, because there was no home without him.

He returns back to Micheal. he's already proven this is worth fighting for. he's not going to run away, even form the eyes in the dark. or rather. the eyes in the light.

thousands of them, staring at him around every pillar...

he stops, regarding the pillar closest to him very carefully.

it's not /like/ the pillar is staring at him, the pillar /is/ staring at him. they all are. as far as his senses stretched, they are watching him.

he stalks around the nearest one, and there is a ripple in space, the eyes are not following him so much as new opens opening to watch him, ones that cant see him closing back into the ether.

either the pillar is not a pillar at all, or there is something /inside/ the pillar, looking out though the spaces between atoms back at him.

Something here has manipulated time, but it's more than that, there is a manipulation of space going on too. he can feel it now, hands pressed against stone as his senses press against...

a prison cell. there is an angel inside this pillar - frozen and trapped - staring back at him.

It feels like an (angel class meant to be at god's side), but Crowley's not sure - he's not even sure he's met any even before the Fall.. and.

And.

and he's never even heard of one that Fell.

Before the archangels colluded with Beelzebub for Hellfire - what *did* Heaven do with decedenters? Aziraphale surely couldn't have been the only one to get tripped up in six thousand years, yet there had not been a single new Fallen Angel since the first batch...

with a dawning new horror, Crowley refused to glance around again, at the hall of never ending light. How many.....

Concern about lurking predictors pushed completely from his mind, Crowley pressed his own infernal power into the energy holding the pillar together. He pushed until the facade of stone failed, and he came face to faze with an angel, twisted and contorted, incomprehensible ethereal form trapped and frozen in place.

only the eyes could move, opening and watching him, likely as they'd been doing with everyone to pass though this hall since they'd been (incarcerated). He turned to another pillar, pressing into it, the facade crumbling easier now that he knew how. anther (type of angel).

and again - and other (type).

and again - this time a field angel.

fear, and rage, and disgust, and outrage building, Crowley let loose an out power of power, rippling put across dozens of pillars, all falling away to reveal the same.

hundreds of angels, trapped, looked back at him.

thousands more watched, still unseen.

the fact the eyes rippled in and out of existence as he moved meant that the time lock effecting the unbound angels was completely different that whatever held them (unmoving)