CROWLEY
Demon
Posts: 74
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 21, 2024 19:57:17 GMT
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Post by CROWLEY on Jul 26, 2022 18:47:06 GMT
If you were a Winchester in this town and you weren’t holed up in a cut rate motel room or at Singer’s farmhouse, wringing hands over some world ending threat, then there were only a handful of possibilities. Crowley stood in the centre of the square, about as vulnerable as it was possible to get in Mystic Falls, shoulders hunched beneath the cover of his thigh length jacket. He might as well have sodding painted a sign saying ‘Kick me, Luci’ on his back.
The longer he studied the place, like a child on the outside of a snow globe, trying to figure out what was going on within, the higher his shoulders crept around his ears. If Dean had been really serious about keeping Sam and his brother and that old fool Singer safe he’d have been a thousand miles from here now. If he hadn’t been so attached to that rust bucket he’d have been further still, sat on a beach somewhere with a Mai Tai, beyond the reach of Hell’s biggest and foulest for as long as possible. Sticking around in this town immediately painted you for a fool.
That made two of them.
Grumbling under his breath and wondering why he hadn’t bothered taking his own advice, Crowley started across the square. One side of it seemed to bristle with the sorts of places that’d offer up some sort of boozy amusement to a clapped out hunter with a liver that probably would’ve exploded if he hadn’t already died a dozen other ways and been brought back on a clean slate each time. The Grill – too family friendly for anything more than another burger to fur up those hunter arteries – Campbells, a possibility, although it might not provide half as much entertainment as a celebrating big brother might want. That left door number three.
Standing across the street from the club, Crowley studied the queue out from. No bandy legged letches standing out there among the college kids and broken down old discotheque wrecks looking to hold on to their youth, or someone else’s. Didn’t mean he wasn’t already lurking inside. A Tuesday night offered up just enough elbow room to get plastered and then find one of those coeds to drag out with him afterwards, if the brooding dropped to the right level that was. If Dean hadn’t retreated there then … well, at least there might be some other form of entertainment that was a little more welcoming than Moose and his sour puss.
Not bothering with the queue, or the lump sat at the front door, Crowley disappeared in a flutter of Saville Row tailored wool and appeared inside at the far end of the bar. For 9 o’clock on a Tuesday the place was full enough. The dance floor writhed to the music, enough room in there for the occasional flash of a limb or a gyrating hip. Luckily the bar was relatively empty in comparison. The last time he’d been here it’d been six deep and a battle to get a stool to plant himself on. This time there were gaps like a mouth missing teeth.
On the far side of one of them was just what he’d been looking for. Hunkered down over some sort of drink, probably looking for answers to the screwed up universe at the bottom of it. Sighing at the gloom that rolled through the place, Crowley strolled closer. Well, he was getting company at least.
He unbuttoned the jacket, flapping it around him as he hopped up onto the stool. ”No hug? No, I missed you, mate? I guess time doesn’t make the heart feel fonder.” Not when your absence was during Lucifer’s escape from the cage and your brother’s playing sock puppet to the big man himself. Crowley lifted his chin towards Dean’s glass. ”You at least gonna offer me one? Something … pink, with two umbrellas … double points if it’s got an embarrassin’ name.” One hazel eye winked at Dean as the bartender started over.
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DEAN WINCHESTER
Hunter
Posts: 44
Status:
Single
Played by:
Alex
Last seen Apr 9, 2024 1:31:30 GMT
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on Aug 6, 2022 22:37:51 GMT
━ i’ll keep fighting ... till i got nothing left ━
WITH everything going on in his life, it was safe to say that he had a lot on his mind as he sat there inside of the Impala, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the steering well. Sam was back, had showed up out of the blue a couple of days ago, Lucifer free. Dean didn't know what the hell to think about it. But whatever he felt, he shoved it down, deep, deep down. Hell, he was just glad Sammy was alright and was free from that ass clown. Which even though Sam was free, there was still a hell lotta problems left to worry about, for starters, where the hell Lucifer was and what the hell he wanted now that he was out of Sam. What was his end goal? Had he found another vessel? So many unanswered questions was leaving Dean antsy. Dean was already restless as hell, getting only a couple of hours of sleep here and there when he could. It came with the job and after the life he lived, sleeping longer than a couple hours could kill ya. Literally, and he had died one too many times for his liking. The last time he'd died he had come back as a demon and that was the last damn thing he needed to happen ever again.
Regardless, Dean needed a drink... or several. With everything that happened with Sam and with Lucifer still being MIA, to say he was stressed was an understatement. Not to mention the fact that he was currently working a case, another missing person in town, what a shocker. Dean had come to find out that Mystic Falls was notorious for people going missing, not only that, but for monsters to be running amuck. He hadn't ever experienced a town quite like this one and for some damn reason... he hadn't been after to leave. Maybe it was because of Ben, or maybe it was because for the first long while in his life, he'd had some normalcy. He hadn't moved around place to place like he and Sam used to, hadn't felt the need to vacate after a hunt. Even though Mystic Falls was a shit show, it had become home to him, something Dean had never really had his entire life and he did not want to give that up, even with all the shit he had experienced in it. Not to mention the fact that Ben had made this his home too, had friends here, went to school here... he couldn't very well take that from him, not with everything he had been through too.
Whether he liked it or not... Mystic Falls was home.
Sitting in the nightclub that sat just on the edge of town, Dean felt entirely out of his comfort zone. Normally he would choose to go to a sleazy bar, but he didn't really wanna be recognized and bothered, so he opted for a change of pace and boy was he already regretting it. When he was younger, he would've been all for this scene just simply because of the women inside, but as he got older... he much preferred the comfort of a good ole fashion dive bar. Of course, he was sitting up at the bar of this nightclub too, hunched over a glass of whiskey. Not exactly the kind of drink you got at a nightclub, but it was damn sure the drink he was getting. As he sat there, sipping diligently on his whiskey, he heard someone sit down next to him and he couldn't help but let out a groan.
Crowley.
'No hug? No, I missed you, mate? I guess time doesn’t make the heart feel fonder. You at least gonna offer me one? Something … pink, with two umbrellas … double points if it’s got an embarrassin’ name.' Dean couldn't roll his eyes further into his head as Crowley spoke. He should have known Crowley would come wandering into a place like this. Before he even acknowledged the douche king of hell, he took a long drink from his whiskey. "The hell you doing here Crowley?" He asked, not even bothering to look over at him. Dean couldn't help but be pissed off at the demon considering his ass was MIA during the entire Sam/Lucifer ordeal. Dean hated to admit it, but he needed Crowley's help while he tried to help Sam, but did the dickhead even bothering helping? Nope, nada. He couldn't even be bothered to answer his friggin' phone. All because he was too much of a coward to come help them take on the actual Devil himself. If he were being honest, he wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk off his ugly ass face, knock him clean off of the chair he was sittin' in. Oh would he love nothing more.
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CROWLEY
Demon
Posts: 74
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 21, 2024 19:57:17 GMT
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Post by CROWLEY on Aug 15, 2022 20:02:33 GMT
He’d known Sam would squeal the moment Dean had crawled back into that pit of a motel room. Long legs eating up the narrow space of the room, boat sized feet grinding a ditch into the god awful shag carpeting as he’d paced back and forth. The Winchesters shared everything except their plans to sacrifice themselves for each other. It woulda been a decent distraction after all. ’Hey Dean! Let’s not talk about how screwed up Lucifer left me – let’s bitch over Crowley poking his head out from under his rock instead. What a dick!’ The language growing less loving with every beer drunk out of the six pack and the inches dropping in the bottle of cheap gut rot. Bitter. The pair of them.
With good reason, maybe, although he wasn’t telling either one of them that.
Like a staked goat in front of an enclosure thrown up by a bunch of crackpot scientists, he’d stood right out there in the square, waiting. No Dean, no Sammy either. If Singer ever left the farmhouse it would’ve been a miracle and squirrel jnr – ha! The staked goat had gotten squirmy in the end. Enough was enough on the waiting. If he kept it up then there wouldn’t be any running the next time Lucifer or his yellow eyed puppy came sniffing around. Maybe that was Moose and Squirrel’s game. Hope he got scooped up and that’d be another pain in the arse off of their hands. Just like Rowena had predicted.
Crowley resisted the urge to tear out what remained of his thinning hair at the thought. That old witch wasn’t right, in fact he’d prove every word out of her puckered mouth wrong in the end and between the lot of them they’d have both the Father of the Millennium and his favourite son all packed back up in the cage. Sam could stop listening to the whispers in that Cromagnum skull and Dean could stop wringing his hands. Or drowning his sorrows in a place like this.
He’d got it right on the first try, of course. Shocking. A Winchester at the bar, clinging to a glass of something probably only a single step above the gut rot they’d have had back in the motel room in his hand – an anathema in the land of neon cocktails and Slippery Nipples. Nope, he wasn’t following suit, no matter the warmth of the welcome. He’d rather have his meat suit shuddering with the sugar rush the accountant had probably shunned his whole life for the finer things that’d left him with a little paunch. The salesman look – not out of place in what had been his game.
The well-tailored jacket – a million steps up on the leather and flannel the Winchesters had to buy in bulk – settled around him, the cuffs drawing back to reveal the glint of cuff links and the ring on his finger. Crowley puffed out his breath as his greeting fell deader than the proverbial doornail. The bartender raised brows expectantly as Dean let his question hang. ”Tight fisted git,” the demon muttered under his breath. ”I guess the fraud game’s not so good these days. Too many other distractions to convince Amex that there’s a second Ozzy Osborne out there.” The smile upped its wattage as Crowley leaned in to look up at the bartender. ”You look like the Sex on the Beach type … I’ll have one of those and … whatever gasoline my friend here’s sipping on.” Crowley leaned in as the bloke side stepped to start pouring, probably ranting in his head the entire time. He grunted and inched back. No thanks.
Bearded cheeks puffed out as he settled back down. Elbows on the bar, hazel eyes fixed on that movie star profile – caught in something that might’ve been a pout at the moment. ”You know if the wind changes it’s gonna stick that way …” he warned before he hissed out a sigh. ”Sam didn’t go flapping his gums then. I’d have thought he’d have had you on the phone two minutes after I left. I’m guessing there’s still trouble in paradise? Too much trouble to have a drink with an old friend.” Confidant, arse saver, purveyor of necessary goods for taking care of his own kind. Surely nothing spelt loyalty better than that.
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DEAN WINCHESTER
Hunter
Posts: 44
Status:
Single
Played by:
Alex
Last seen Apr 9, 2024 1:31:30 GMT
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on Jan 9, 2023 18:51:45 GMT
━ i’ll keep fighting ... till i got nothing left ━HONEST to god Dean was not in the mood to deal with Crowley’s antics, but it seemed he wasn’t going anywhere. Hell bent on annoying the absolute hell outta him, draining any sanity he had left. This prick had gone MIA the second Lucifer showed back up in town. Tucked his tail and ran like the coward that he was instead of staying and helping them fight back against Lucifer. Instead, Crowley left the second he could, with no regard for anyone but himself. Then again, Dean shouldn’t be too surprised, this was Crowley they were talking about after all. He was known to only care about himself and himself only. Why would he think anythin’ different? He shouldn’t, and wouldn’t ever again. Crowley had shown his true colors when Lucifer showed back up. Whatever redemption he had gained was long gone. In his eyes, Crowley was demon skum that didn’t have any redemption qualities.
Those were all gone, even if Crowley thought otherwise.
Of course, his distaste for Crowley and his presence didn’t seem to phase him as he stayed his ground and sat up next to him, ordering the most asinine drink he could’ve ordered, then again, he expected nothing less from Crowley given what he’s ordered in the past. All he could do was scoff at the order, taking a sip from his ‘gasoline.’ Better than whatever fruity drink he had just ordered. Dean didn’t even bother to acknowledge Crowley’s comment, nor did he look up at the bartender who reluctantly began to make the drinks Crowley had just ordered for himself. “Really? Sex on the beach?” He commented as the bartender was no longer in front of them and had gone to get whatever ingredients were needed to make that monstrosity of a drink.
Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. This was Crowley after all.
Why even bother to comment at all. It seemed his jaw would snap under the pressure it was currently under as Crowley commented on how tightly he seemed to be wound up. Given what had been happening lately, could anyone blame him? Crowley continued yappin’ his mouth, starting to talk about Sam and that was the last thing he wanted to talk to the demon about. The absolute last thing. “What goes on between me and Sam is between us. I don’t need you to tell me about Sam. He’s been through enough as it is.” They all had. Too damn much. Of course he didn’t want to sit there and have a drink with Crowley. Matter of fact he would have rathered he got to have his drink alone, in peace and quiet. But of course, that didn’t appear to be in the cards for him, not with Crowley around.
A heavy sigh and a downed drink, Dean turned slightly to look at the demon. “What do you want Crowley?” He asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer. But where Crowley was concerned, there was always some personal vendetta, something the demon always wanted. There was no ordinary interaction when it came to Crowley. That much he knew.
All too well in fact
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CROWLEY
Demon
Posts: 74
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 21, 2024 19:57:17 GMT
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Post by CROWLEY on Feb 11, 2023 17:39:14 GMT
It was no surprise why the Winchesters were perpetually alone. The only ones able to tolerate those cold, bitter welcomes the angel – who probably missed out on all the subtleties of them – and their own flesh and blood. Anybody with half a brain shot two fingers up to the meagre scraps of the pros of being around the pair of them and swanned out before the mile long list of cons could either get them killed or break their hearts (not that he had one mind). They put that sour puss in their rear view and saved themselves that whole world of misery they’d end up caught in. Rowena had tried warning him about it but was he flashing that V at them both and leaving? No.
He was a bloody idiot.
Alright, alright, maybe some little part of him enjoyed watching them pucker up that way. There was some bit of him that had to have been turned masochistic by the amount of times that witch had tried to abandon him. Some part of him needed them too, because Rowena had been wrong, bringing Lucifer back hadn’t distracted the Winchesters from putting the knife in his back, it had just given them another reason to when he did the inevitable and chose to save his own arse by parking it as far out of the way as possible. Now it was back Crowley felt as though he had it waving in the wind for any fallen angel and his sycophants to take another shot at.
Parking it on the stool next to Dean’s, he’d settled his coat around like a disgruntled bird settling its feathers, letting that icy welcome roll off of its expensive weave like water off the duck’s back. Dean was already puckering up, disbelief and disgust rolling through that stupid comment. Crowley leaned into his side, smiling beatifically. ”Maybe if you get a little more of it you’d stop being so…” He grunted, gesturing vaguely in Dean’s direction. Up tight, exhausted – there were definitely some lines working their way under those green eyes, miserable. ”Some of us actually like to taste something other than the floor cleaner they cut that stuff with.” Not that it would’ve bothered him any. Demonhood meant you were beyond being bothered about whether you were rotting your liver or working yourself into the ground. One meat suit was tossed aside as easily as the next, something Dean here would eventually get used to once Lucifer made him a chew toy again. Maybe a little shake around in those monstrous jaws would help loosen him up. Crowley clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder, acknowledging his pointed ignorance of half of what he’d said. Warning him about cracking his teeth too would just be like trying to sweet talk the deaf. He slid his arm forward slightly, keeping his forearm draped over Dean’s shoulder as he huffed out his amusement. ”No thanks to any of you,” he griped. ”From what I’ve heard Sam came back all on his own while you lot were still twiddling your thumbs. You failin’ to deal with our Little Luci issue makes what goes on between you two all of our business.” Well, his at least.
Sam had been no more forthcoming about how things were between the two of them, only making it clear, again, that he didn’t want to put the burden of Lucifer’s effect on him onto his family – like lightening the load on any of them was possible at this point. Crowley’s face screwed up as the glass of cheap liquor was slid onto the bar top, the bartender still rattling the shaker with his own brew. ”You know … you opened your mouth then and Sam’s voice popped right out. Why’s there always gotta be some ulterior motive? A demon can’t pop in on his friends to see how they’re doing after a bloody awful time with the biggest pain in all of our arses? At some point you’ve gotta dial the cynicism back.” That wasn’t likely to ever happen, it was ingrained bone deep now. ”You still after him?” Crowley’s voice dropped to that gruff rasp, not from any real desire not to be overheard, although a wise man never wanted to invoke that sort of name, lest you talked of the devil and he strutted in here looking for a new hand puppet.
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DEAN WINCHESTER
Hunter
Posts: 44
Status:
Single
Played by:
Alex
Last seen Apr 9, 2024 1:31:30 GMT
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on Apr 19, 2023 13:25:09 GMT
━ i’ll keep fighting ... till i got nothing left ━
WHEN it came to Crowley, he was a means to an end. The damn King of Hell had been one of the biggest pains in his ass than anything else. At the end of the day, he had chosen to save himself. When push came to shove, Crowley had tucked his tail and ran like a bat out of hell. Like a damn coward and he hoped he knew just how much of a coward he was for running. He could have stayed and helped them fight back against Lucifer, but he didn’t, and he was still pissed as hell at Crowley for it. Of course, he couldn’t say he was surprised by Crowley’s actions, they were well in tune with his past actions. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the demon to put himself first and he should have expected that, but he had hoped Crowley would have had a change of heart and realized they had a bigger fish to fry. Taking down Lucifer was something that would benefit everyone, not just the Winchesters. And yet…
God that smirk on Crowley’s face made him want to punch him straight in his jaw. No matter what interaction he had with the demon, each and every time he wanted to smack that smirk off his face. “If I get a little more of it I’d stop being so what?” He asked as Crowley gestured in his direction, not finishing the end of his sentence. Something that he couldn’t stand. Just finish what you’re saying, no need to be so friggin’ vague all the damn time. Dean chose to ignore Crowley’s comments on his taste in liquor, which was much better than Crowley’s ‘fru fru’ umbrella bullshit, by downing the rest of his glass. Setting it town, Dean tapped the bartop, signaling for the bartender to pour him another.
Thank god for his high alcohol tolerance or else he’d be on his ass by now with the amount of whiskey he’d drank.
If looks could kill, the glare he was sending Crowley’s way would be lethal as he slapped his hand on his shoulder before sliding his forearm onto his shoulder in a draped manner. Dean shrugged his arm off of him roughly, not wanting to be touched by this dickhead. Again, he mentioned Sam and his jaw clenched even more as he listened to the demon speak. “Most of us actually tried to do our damndest to get Sam back and deal with Lucifer. And ya know, this coming from someone who tucked their tail and ran is rich.” Real rich. Crowley had no room to talk about what they did to try and take down Lucifer and get Sam back. He was just grateful that Sam was back and in one piece. One less thing for him to deal with, now his main objective was taking down Lucifer and putting his ass back in the cage where he belonged.
It was at that point that the bartender slid a glass his way and Dean grabbed it and picked it up, taking another sip from it before setting it back down as Crowley spoke and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at his words. “Because with you there’s always some ulterior motive.” Hell, that was the case with most people he interacted with. It was just part of the gig. ‘You still after him?’ He asked after a few beats, his tone changing entirely. “Yeah, I am. That son of a bitch is going to get what’s coming to him one way or another.” Dean didn’t care what he had to do in order to make sure the devil was back in the cage he belonged in. With Lucifer out, all of their lives were in danger. Hell, the entire world was in danger with Lucifer out. It was quite literally for the greater good that they defeat Lucifer once and for all.
And it would take everyone to do that.
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CROWLEY
Demon
Posts: 74
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 21, 2024 19:57:17 GMT
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Post by CROWLEY on May 4, 2023 19:36:35 GMT
”Grouchy,” Crowley said on a chuckle. He leaned in, screwing his face up slightly, like he was considering the notion. ”Why do you think monks always looked so pissed off? Humans weren’t meant for all that chastity nonsense.” Apparently Dean Winchester certainly hadn’t been made for it. Just like the boozing, the womanising was legendary, another symptom of Winchester self-loathing. Poor Dean, never able to settle for more than five minutes because just look what happened to the women the Winchesters fell in love with. Ah, maybe that was it.
Crowley clucked his tongue, aiming a finger gun at Dean. The yellow eyed son of a demon bitch was back. That was gonna paint a target on the back of anyone who happened to get close to a Winchester now. None of them were gonna wanna see another girlfriend pasted to the ceiling as they burned. It was self-preservation for those tender little hearts. He’d almost have shed a tear over how heart breaking it was, if he had any emotions left in him, which he didn’t. There wasn’t an ounce of regret over shoving his thumb straight into that sore spot, or over bloody hiding his backside while Lucifer and his lapdog stormed around here looking to strengthen their toe hold on the town and Hell alike.
Shuddering at the thought, he’d clapped his hand against Dean’s shoulder, only pouting faintly as the arm he’d slipped over Dean’s shoulder was shoved away. Rude. Pouting too. He had to suppress the sharp little smile that wanted to come as the muscles in that chiselled jaw clenched hard enough that there was a dentist’s trip in Dean’s near future. ”And how do you know I wasn’t workin' it all from the other end, eh? The great Dean Winchester, mind readin' now … or are we just bitter because your damndest didn’t get his soddin' hand out from up Sam’s backside soon enough.” Now who was bitter. Crowley frowned, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt like he was smoothing ruffled feathers. ”There’s nothin' wrong with self-preservation, squirrel. You ought to try a little more of it … the pair of ya.” They wouldn’t, of course. What was the point in calling yourself a Winchester if you couldn’t happily throw yourself on every sword you came across? Save the world, toss your own existence away in the process, all in the name of family.
His own was the sodding cause of all of this. What he wouldn’t have given to run Rowena through with a sword. Lop that smug head right off of her shoulders. Mount it on a pike. Send it in a box to Lucifer, a little gift to remind his highness that the next time was gonna be permanent. A pleasant enough mental image that he was smiling again as Dean went back to trying to crack his molars like nuts. ”At some point you’re gonna have to let go of what happened in the past and concentrate on your current problems.” Which meant stopping griping about just where he’d been while Lucifer had been sallying about wearing Sam like a cheap suit.
Pulling a Frozen act and letting it go was easier said than done for a Winchester though. Crowley rolled his eyes at the attack on his motives, settling back in against the bar. ”Demon,” he muttered, swirling his finger in the air, pointing at his own chest. ”We’re not exactly known for our altruism.” Human Fergus MacLeod hadn’t exactly been saintly either. ”And have you got anywhere near givin’ him what’s comin’ to him? Or are we still sittin’ around picklin’ our brains for sixteen hours a day?” The smile on his lips turned practically saccharine as the bartender reappeared. ”Thanks, darlin’.” He winked at her before taking a sip, the umbrella brushing his upper lip before he plucked it out.
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DEAN WINCHESTER
Hunter
Posts: 44
Status:
Single
Played by:
Alex
Last seen Apr 9, 2024 1:31:30 GMT
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on Sept 2, 2023 19:03:36 GMT
━ i’ll keep fighting ... till i got nothing left ━
ALL Dean could do was roll his eyes as he took a sip out of his drink. He didn’t know why Crowley expected anything less outta him. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was converse with the former king of hell. They weren’t pals. Sure, he wasn’t actively trying to kill him any more, but that didn’t mean he trusted the SOB. He didn’t think he would ever trust Crowley, that much was for sure. ‘Why do you think monks always looked so pissed off? Humans weren’t meant for all that chastity nonsense.’ Dean snorted at that comment, he couldn’t disagree with that. He definitely wasn’t the ideal picture of chastity. Dean didn’t think he could live life with no sex, no one to help fill the hole inside of him that would never fill. Not even a good whiskey could fill that hole. Then again, Dean wasn’t sure if anything would ever be able to fill that hole, although he would damn well try and do his best to fill it.
When Crowley clapped his hand against his shoulder, Dean promptly shrugged him off as if to say, don’t friggin touch me. ‘And how do you know I wasn’t workin' it all from the other end, eh? The great Dean Winchester, mind readin' now … or are we just bitter because your damndest didn’t get his soddin' hand out from up Sam’s backside soon enough.’ Because he knew damn well Crowley wasn’t doing shit. He was protecting his own ass from god knows where. He was making sure he was nice and hidden away in his own corner while the rest of them were fighting for their lives. Crowley didn’t care about anyone else other than himself. Self-preservation would be the only thing he would ever think of. Everyone else be damned. “So you’re telling me that you fled town the second Lucifer shows up and then what? You were figuring out how to take him down all by yourself? C’mon now Crowley. You crawled into the tiniest crawl space you could find to stay hidden to protect your own ass. Don’t try and spin it any other way.” He said gruffly. Dean would be surprised if Crowley did anything else.
‘There’s nothin' wrong with self-preservation, squirrel. You ought to try a little more of it … the pair of ya.’ “And that’s your problem, Crowley. I’m not gonna save my own ass when I can save others first. Hell, when I can try and attempt to save this godforsaken planet, I’m going to. What I’m not going to do is sit on my ass and hope for the best.”Neither he or Sam would ever put themselves before anyone else. They wouldn’t try and save their own asses, just wasn’t in their nature. Crowley knew this. Hell, everyone who had ever encountered them would know that. If it came down to saving himself or others, let’s just say he wouldn’t be at the top of his priority list.
‘At some point you’re gonna have to let go of what happened in the past and concentrate on your current problems.’ All Dean could do was grunt at that statement, because as much as he hated to admit it, Crowley was right, although he wouldn’t let him know that out loud.. He couldn’t dwell on the past, all he could focus on was the future. That’s all he could allow himself to think of right now. He already had too much on his plate as it was, he didn’t need to think of what could have been anymore on top of all of that too. But it was hard to forget such a cowardly move, then again, it was Crowley he was talking about so he guessed he couldn’t be too surprised.
‘And have you got anywhere near givin’ him what’s comin’ to him? Or are we still sittin’ around picklin’ our brains for sixteen hours a day?’ Again, silence from Dean. Because no, he hasn’t. He or Sam were nowhere near close to finding Lucifer. “And what about you, hmm? Do you actually have any ideas or are you just sittin’ around sipping fruity little drinks all day?” He challenged as the bartender sat yet another umbrella lined drink in front of Crowley. Taking a sip out of his drink he set it back down onto the table as he waited for the demon to answer. Did Crowley have any ideas about their Lucifer problem? Or have any new leads for the matter? Doubt it. But at this point he would take any leads he could get, even ones from Crowley.
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CROWLEY
Demon
Posts: 74
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 21, 2024 19:57:17 GMT
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Post by CROWLEY on Oct 14, 2023 16:45:37 GMT
Your own mother trying to throw you to the demonic wolves was something the Winchesters would never understand. Hell had been pulling the Winchesters’ strings for decades, not intending to let those fated to be at the centre of all this apocalypse bullshit squirm out of it all. That hadn’t stopped Mary and John from doing everything possible to try and protect their kids. Rowena had claimed to be doing the same, but it was sodding funny how she’d ended up as Lucifer’s pet witch when she’d freed him and the one she was meant to be protecting for the first time in her miserable existence had been forced to scurry into an absolute shithole of a hideout. What choice had he had? Stay put and end up the one in a cell down in Hell? Fall on his knees and beg mercy from daddy dearest (given how well that had worked for the Winchesters, Crowley doubted he’d have ended up with anything other than rug burn on his knees from it). Dean seemed to be shrugging off the idea, but he wasn’t gonna let that give credence to Rowena’s argument that it had been either she gave the Winchesters a bigger problem to deal with or they come for him.
Crowley cackled, settling his hand back on the edge of the bar. Dean should’ve known by now that he wasn’t living it up in some penthouse somewhere, surrounded by good little demon minions who were pandering to his every need. He pursed his lips in a strained smile the minute the sound had faded away. ”Anybody ever tell you you’re too cynical for your own good Squirrel? If I’d just been stickin’ my head in the sand waitin’ for your lot to get rid of daddy dearest I’d still have been waiting in a thousand years.” Adjusting his coat around himself, Crowley puffed out a disgruntled breath. ”I might not be livin’ in luxury, but it’s not just somewhere to sit with my thumb up my arse either. I’ve been workin’ on our problem and I can’t do that from inside whatever pit Lucifer and his lapdog would have me in.” He might’ve been splitting hairs, but he wasn’t gonna apologise for saving his own arse. The problem with the Winchesters was that they were never gonna do the same. It wasn’t about keeping themselves alive, it was saving each other. Sammy had gone dancing into that cage because Azazel had convinced him that it was the only way to stop his nephew from ending up the same way. Crowley hissed out a sigh. Why think about yourself for once when you could fall on your sword and give the other side exactly what they wanted. Hazel eyes narrowed at Dean, his teeth flashing in a sneer. ”You’re still not gettin’ it. How are you gonna save this godforsaken planet when you’re downstairs burnin’? Use your brain. Put yourself first and you stay breathin’ long enough to save everybody else. It’s not sitting on your arse and hopin’, it’s usin’ what’s rattlin’ around in that empty head of yours.” Reaching out, Crowley tapped his fingers against the side of Dean’s head.
Unfortunately none of them seemed to have knocked loose the littlest idea of how to get rid of their Lucifer problem for good. Instead they were slowly rotting their brains in places like this. He could’ve tried to shake something out of them for years, but it’d still be no good if they didn’t put some actual welly into it. At Dean’s grunt, Crowley rolled his eyes, his smile vanishing as he glanced up like he was looking for patience.
Of course, Dean didn’t open up about what they had come up with, just flipped it around on him instead. As though he was trying to prove Squirrel’s point instead of refute it, Crowley sucked down half his drink. He watched Dean over the rim of the glass as he did it. ”I’d watch it … pot, kettle, black, eh?” Crowley muttered at the accusation. He set the glass down within a faint thunk, he sighed. ”You’ve got no hope of killin’ Lucifer permanently, but if we can get him back down to the cage, you’ve only got his little toady to deal with. Accordin’ to rumour, there’s been a way sittin’ in this town for a while – or there was. Did you have any clue that the horsemen were here?” Were being the operative word. Death himself certainly had been according to some yappy little reaper, and there’d been gossip about the others. Four rings, one neat little route right back downstairs.
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DEAN WINCHESTER
Hunter
Posts: 44
Status:
Single
Played by:
Alex
Last seen Apr 9, 2024 1:31:30 GMT
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Post by DEAN WINCHESTER on Jan 18, 2024 16:25:36 GMT
━ i’ll keep fighting ... till i got nothing left ━
DEAN stared in quiet, patience - far from a virtue of his. He could but simply wait for him to present something as close to a solution as possible… that was what defeat felt like nowadays; a slow game of patience. At Crowley’s comment, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Hunters were all notoriously cynical, it was just a part of the job. Whether they liked it or not, the world wasn’t all sunshines and rainbows, he knew that first hand after all the shit he’d been through his entire life. Growing up in the hunting life, it had made the older Winchester distrustful of human sincerity and integrity. The only person he could truly count on was himself and his family. Hell, then again, sometimes it was only himself. But that also didn’t mean he would put himself first either. If it came down to saving others or himself? Well, let’s just say he knew who he would choose.
“Working on our problem? Really?” He questioned, not truly believing Crowley was doing anything other than saving his own ass and staying as hidden as possible. “Care to enlighten me how you’ve been working on our problem?” He asked, placing emphasis on the working on our problem tidbit. Dean was skeptical at best of Crowley's participation in the fight against Lucifer. Then again, could anyone blame him? Crowley wasn’t exactly known for helping others.
It seemed Dean upset the former king of hell because he flashed his teeth at him in a sneer, eyes narrowed at him. He listened as the demon spoke and dammit if he wasn’t making sense. Dean knew he needed to keep himself alive, it was the only way he was truly going to be able to save everyone else. It wasn’t like he was going to sacrifice himself and leave everyone else to deal with the consequences. It was much more complicated than that. But Crowley’s words were laughable, because that’s what he’s always done. “Like you haven’t been sitting on your own ass?” He scoffed, moving away from Crowley’s outstretched fingers as he tapped the side of his head, shooting him daggers as if to say don’t friggin’ touch me.
“I’m all ears, Crowley. If you figured out a way to send the devil back where he came from, then please, by all means, tell me.” At that Dean picked up his glass and downed the rest of its contents before setting the empty glass back onto the bar counter. Dean listened as Crowley spoke, and the mention of Lucifer back in the cage peaked his interest. Hearing Crowley’s next words made his eyebrows raise, “the horsemen are here? In town?” That was definitely news to him, he had no idea the horsemen were in town. Why were they in town? That didn’t matter, well, it did, but one thing at a time. If the horsemen were in town then that meant they had been resurrected, which meant they had their powers back, which meant that they had their rings back on their fingers. Rings meant a way to open the cage. Which meant… a way to send Lucifer back to where he belongs.
“Where’d you hear this?” He asked Crowley as he motioned for the bartender to refill his drink. After this bit of information, he was going to need a few more of these. If what Crowley said was true, the horsemen being in town wasn’t good, especially if they all four were at the same time. Something bad was brewing and suddenly it felt like 2010 again, when he and Sam had managed to save the entire friggin’ world from the apocalypse.
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CROWLEY
Demon
Posts: 74
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Mar 21, 2024 19:57:17 GMT
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Post by CROWLEY on Jan 29, 2024 22:34:39 GMT
”Cynical and rude,” Crowley muttered, clucking his tongue as Dean threw his argument back at him. They’d all been picturing him sitting on a throne in one of the ridiculous mansions they had around here. A luxurious vacation that’d last until someone else got rid of Lucifer again. Then, surprise, Crowley the cockroach would come crawling out again, having survived the apocalypse. ”Who do you think’s been nibblin’ away at his people. Demons aren’t killin’ themselves, eh?” Not that many had died at his hands. He was the thinker, always using his head ... and his mouth. Talking others into risking their necks rather than his own was a speciality.
With the Winchesters he usually didn’t have to do much coaxing. The two of them might’ve bitched about it, but show them some world ending event and they charged right into the middle of it, determined to play the hero. If they died doing it? So what. One of God’s little pests or even Death’s toadies would bring them back. Fate wanted the Winchesters in the fight. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d get the same gift.
Crowley clucked his tongue and managed a sigh as Dean danced away from his hand. ”Not as much as you, obviously.” If the Winchesters had been a little more proactive this would’ve undoubtedly been over and done with by now. Maybe being Luci’s hand-puppet for a while had taken more of the stuffing out of Sam than he’d thought. ”I thought you’d have been chompin’ at the bit to get rid of Lucifer.” Another sentiment Dean would probably flip around and throw straight back at him.
Obviously, he’d come prepared for laying his cards out. At least prepared enough that he could bullshit when it all got thrown back at him. ”Hold your horses,” Crowley muttered. He lifted his glass at the bartender, grumbling at Dean as he’d neglected to call for a double refill. ”You didn’t think Death was here all on his own, did ya?” Crowley cackled. Of course the Winchesters hadn’t been paying attention to all of that. The only thing that had mattered was what was right under their noses.
”A little birdy,” he crooned, smirking as he emptied the last of his first glass. The demon plucked the umbrella free of the drink, twirling it in his fingers before he tucked it behind one ear. ”All the trouble stinking up this town and you didn’t think they’d have something to do with it. It’s practically warfare here and where War goes, Pestilence and Famine won’t be too far behind. You think you could get hold of Death and find out exactly where he’s plannin’ on havin’ the family reunion?” If there was one person in this town who had a hot line to the Grim Reaper himself, it was the Winchesters. Maybe Death would wanna remain hands off, but he’d lent a hand and ended their little Lucifer problem the last time, maybe he’d be willing to go round two with him.
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