30 September 2012 @ 12:24 pm
Drink Count: 33 || Just when everthing seemed to be alright...  
[Aziraphale is gone again. Crowley had woken up one day to find the bed empty and cold beside him. Aziraphale wasn't in the house and a quick drive over to Kramden Street revealed that the angel was once again a drone. Aziraphale said he wouldn't leave. He should have known better than to listen to the angel's lies. Everyone leaves.

The demon, with his one pristine white wing, is not okay. He gets through each day, but really his heart is broken. His earlier fighting spirit is almost dead. How many of his friends are even left in this place? Integra, Death, and Sniper he knows are still okay, but is there anyone else?

He should have known better. He should never have allowed himself to care.]

A. [About Town: All Day]

[Crowley wanders about trying to find people he recognizes, hoping to find them of sound mind. He knocks on doors and goes to the park. There is still a faint hope that there are others that are okay.]

B. [Olney's Tavern: Evening]

[Crowley's usual enthusiasm is just gone He makes the drinks ordered and doesn't try to get the drones excessively drunk.]

C. [852 Goldberg: Night]

[Crowley hasn't been sleeping, instead sitting up with the television on and a never ending bottle of burgundy. This night is no exception.]
30 July 2012 @ 09:32 am
Drink Count: 32 || A Return to Normalcy  
A. [852 Goldberg: Morning]

[Oh look, packages for Crowley. One is small and light (perhaps a power?), the other large and heavy. He opens both of them on the porch. The small one looks empty upon opening, but he feels the rush of energy as another aspect of his power returns.


Oh... He flexes his metaphysical muscles and slowly realizes that it is his healing ability that is the most recent addition to his demonic arsenal. The least demonic of his powers... Well, in this town it will be handy.

The second box is his state of the art sound system. Bose, to be exact. He moves the box inside and starts setting it up. He forgets to wire the speakers to the control console, but they will work regardless.]

B. [Olney's Tavern: Afternoon]

[Everyone's favorite demon bartender is behind the bar. Come get a drink and have a chat.]

C. [1487 Kramden: Evening]

[Like usual, Crowley just barges on into the house that isn't his own, but might as well be with the way he's always there. He looks for Aziraphale and grins rakishly when he finds him.]

Hallo, Angel.
09 June 2012 @ 06:53 pm
Drink Count: 31 || Return of the Zombies  
[Friday morning, Crowley had woken up to find a delivery from the post office: a thermos of Holy Water. He nervously tucked it away in the nightstand on his side of the bed, not having a safe to properly store it.

Saturday morning, however...

When he leaves the house, he can already sense a change in the air. He blesses under his breath and hops into his car to gather information.]

((ooc: This is Crowley's catchall Zombiefield post. Did we have something planned? Would you like his help? This is the post for you. :3))
01 June 2012 @ 09:33 pm
Drink Count: 30 || Angel of Rock and Roll (except not really)  
He was not particularly angelic in appearance. He had dark hair and good cheekbones and the kind of smile that is usually described as 'ironic', or perhaps 'wry.' He was thin, and very, very British in a way that recalled a thousand drugged out rock stars. He wore black a lot.

He never took off his sunglasses.

A. [852 Goldberg: Morning]

[The winged being that wakes up at 852 Goldberg is certainly not the one who went to bed. Sure, he's still got his wings and dark hair. But his eyes (still hidden by sunglasses)are grey and his shoulders are hunched like he has the weight of the world on them. In a way he does. He is wearing faded black clothes (mostly denim and an old black t-shirt). He is an angel by the name of Caphriel and has been on Earth since the beginning doing everything in his power to make the world at least slightly better.

The one good thing about Mayfield is that he never has to wonder where his next meal would be coming from. He is in the kitchen leaning on the counter with a mug of tea in one hand and a slice of toast in the other.]

B. [About Town: Midday]

[Caphriel has always been a bit confused by Mayfield giving him a vintage Bentley. He had never really learned to drive, preferring to walk or bike from place to place. So the car has been sitting in the garage since it's arrival and he's continued to walk from place to place like right now.

He's enjoying the warmth of the sun on his wings as he walks and offers a wry smile to those passing by him and a wave to those he knows.]

C. [Olney's Tavern: Evening]

[The angel Caphriel is mixing and serving drinks like usual. He's much more relaxed now than he was when Zirah had been in town. Relieved even. And he greets his customers with a smirk.]

((ooc: Crowley's AU is one in which Aziraphale had been the one to fall and not Crowley. He remained an angel (Caphriel) while the demon Zirah (Aziraphale) lost his mind to the fires of hell. If you would like to read the fic I took this AU from, it's called The Sacred and the Profane.))
10 May 2012 @ 10:13 am
Drink Count: 29 || Take a look in the mirror and cry Lord what you're doing to me  
[Aziraphale is gone. Or, well... A drone, more rather. He gets a sense that this might be permanent. It's been several days now and Crowley's gone by 852 Goldberg to check and see if the angel has come out of it yet. But even his wings are gone.

It breaks his heart to see Aziraphale like this. He can never bear to stay long when he comes to check on him. It's like his whole foundation is shattering more, the longer he stays with this shell that was once the angel he desperately loves.

And now also his not!wife is a drone. What the fuck, universe?]

A. [Park: Around Noon]

[Crowley is sitting alone on a bench and feeding the ducks some bread.]

B. [Olney's Tavern: Evening]

[Cowley's behind the bar and drinking a lot more than he usually does. And not even the cocktails he normally drinks, but just scotch on the rocks. Even his wings are starting to become a reflection of his mental state, the normally sleek and immaculate appendages are untidy with the occasional falling feather.]
20 April 2012 @ 11:12 pm
Drink Count: 28 || All in a day's work...  
A. [Action: About Town, morning]

[Crowley's out walking his 8 month old black lab puppy, Rika. She has tons of energy and is bouncing around on her lead with her tongue lolling out, quite the opposite of any dog one could imagine with the demon]

B. [Phone, afternoon]

Out of curiosity, how many of you here aren't human?

C. [Action: Olney's Tavern, evening]

[Crowley's working his shift as usual. Come in and make it less boring for him. You might get an interesting cocktail out of it.]
14 April 2012 @ 01:17 pm
Drink Count: 27 || Freaky Friday (replies will be made using [personal profile] ssssslipping)  
A. [Action: 626 Topper]

[Crowley has woken up in a different house once before in Mayfield, so he's hardly surprised and only mildly annoyed upon waking. He gets up and heads for the closet. Wait... Where are his suits? And his shoes?]


[Wait a minute... He wasn't a tenor before. He steps into the bathroom and lets out an indignant squawk. What the hell?]

B. [Action: 852 Goldberg]

[Screw this noise. Crowley doesn't care what he looks like on the outside, he's going home and suiting up. Wilhelmina, Shana, have a Billy Harris walking through the front door as if he owns the place. He changes into a dark suit and his snakeskin shoes and grabs the keys to the Bentley because there's no way he's letting anyone else drive it.

As he steps back out of the bedroom, he slips on his sunglasses.]

This town is bloody stupid.

C. [Action: About town]

[Oh here, have Doctor Horrible speeding around town in a vintage 1926 black Bentley. That's blaring Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now". Or maybe he's pulled over somewhere and leaning against the car grumbling about the weaknesses of human vision.]
03 April 2012 @ 08:41 pm
Drink Count: 26 || Super-Gluing valuable coins to the sidewalk is not proper demonic activity.  
A. [505 Ricardo, locked to Gawain ([personal profile] white_knightin)]

[Crowley has a special surprise for Gawain. When he goes in for his shower, he finds that the suddenly turns to soup, noodles and all, when he's rinsing off soap suds.]

B. [Anytime, Anywhere]

[Need to be pranked by Crowley? Just want to hang out? This is the prompt for you!

Also, you may find some valuable coins super-glued to the sidewalk across the street from the Tavern. If this is the case, Crowley is definitely watching.]
27 March 2012 @ 07:12 pm
Drink Count: 25 || Don't Tread on Me  

[ Wherever you are, you find a meter long black snake looking up at you form the ground. Or perhaps he's dangling from a branch. Either way he's watching you and flicking out his tongue. ]

Hallo. Er... Any chance You could get me to Aziraphale's?
12 February 2012 @ 07:14 pm
Drink Count: 22 || Mun is an Impatient Shipping Addict  
(( Post forward dated to February 13th/14th ))

A. [Phone, Evening of February 13th]

[Crowley returns home from the bar to find that bouquet of flowers on the mantlepiece still. He steps over and plucks an iris from the vase and sniffs it before any alarm bells have a chance to ring in his mind. His brow furrows. What....? He feels a need to walk over to the phone and pick it up and dial the town.

He takes a hesitant breath before committing demonic suicide.]

Hallo? This is Crowley. I, er... I have a confession to make... Er... Where do I begin? Aziraphale and I have been good friends for a decidedly long time. And I don't know for sure just how long ago this started... Maybe it was when we stopped the apocalypse... Maybe even before then...

But, er... The truth of the matter is... I'm in love with Aziraphale.

[He pauses, as if waiting to be smote by God Himself. Or Lucifer.]

Er... Right.

B. [Action: About Town, throughout the day of February 14th]

[Here is your chance to find Crowley around town! He nibbled on some mint from the bouquet, so he is likely to flirt with you. Be careful though, There might be a jealous Lucifer following behind Crowley.]
10 February 2012 @ 02:56 pm
Drink Count: 21 || Droned Demon  
[That was stupid, Crowley. Not that he knew Jormungandr's saliva is poison. But still... It was at least a relatively pleasant death. The poison worked quickly and it wasn't gruesome. All in all, it was a good way to go.

It takes three days for Crowley to be revived. And when he does, he wakes up droned. This lasts the whole day, though tomorrow he will wake up himself.

Meanwhile, he's out of the house walking his dog, Rika. He's wearing a brown suit and coat, but no sunglasses. He seems not to have noticed his yellow eyes or his pristine white wings. He also doesn't quite sound the same. It's his accent! He doesn't sound like a denizen of Mayfair anymore, but like an American. He greets everyone cheerfully as he passes them.]

Good morning, neighbor! It's a beautiful day today.
07 February 2012 @ 01:45 pm
Drink Count: 20 || Fine Feathered Friend  
A. [Action: 852 Goldberg Street, morning]

[Yesterday morning Crowley had woken up with his skin intact and fresh, the scent of dead flesh erased. He was still missing the body parts (fingers, ear, nose, toes) that had fallen off due to Mrs. Johnson's experiment,bet he felt much better. Almost good enough to be around people again.

So he came home that night for the first time since he'd been poisoned and slept in bed next to his "wife". It was warm and wonderful and soft. He wakes up feeling mighty refreshed, stretches, and gets up. As he goes to the loo, he idly scratches himself. It slowly dawns on him that he's scratching with fingers. He looks at his hands and grins then looks at himself in the mirror. He is whole and complete and not gross anymore.

Crowley takes a long, hot shower and then dresses in his snakeskin shoes and a black suit with red pinstripes, red shirt, and a black silk tie. Of course all of those things had been something different before he got his power to change one thing into another thing for Christmas.

In a good mood, Crowley decides he is going to drop in on Aziraphale and have the angel make his morning tea for him. But as he opens the front door, he notices a rather large box on the porch with his name on it. A regain.

Well, no time like the present. Maybe it would be something useful again. He slices through the tape with his keys and opens the box to find it... Empty?

Suddenly he feels his wings burst out of his back, tearing through fabric in an effort to escape. Crowley blessed loudly, his mood souring in an instant.]

My bloody suit!

B. [Action: 852 Goldberg Street, late morning]

[Crowley had hopped on the phone and demanded that both Aziraphale and Giles come over right away. He told both of them to just come in, the door would be open and they don't need to knock. They find him pacing in the living room, perfectly groomed white feathery wings on his back. There is also a small pile of feathers on the coffee table, all a little too old, bent, or otherwise imperfect. He's aware his statement makes more sense to Aziraphale than to Giles, but he still makes it before bothering to look to see which one has come in first.]

They won't retract.

C. [Action: About Town, early evening]

[Crowley has the day off, luckily. So he has some shopping to do for a planned dinner and it's (at the moment) too awkward to get in his car with his ruddy wings so he's walking to the store.]
28 January 2012 @ 10:38 am
Drink Count: 19 || Almost a Zombie, but no Cannibalism (TW: rotting skin and body parts falling off)  
A. [Action: Outside the Factory, early morning of the 28th]

[Dumped outside unceremoniously, he looks around to try and decide what to do. Crowley had begun to notice it in the Recovery Room, the smell. And he was pretty sure it was himself. Patches of black had started showing up on his skin.

He's been here before. Flesh rotting, that horrible smell of being dead while still living... At least he doesn't have the cravings this time. Still, he doesn't want to risk it.]

B. [Action: Around Town, all day on the 28th]

[Crowley is wandering a bit aimlessly or perhaps sitting on a bench. Wherever you do find him, the black patches have increased in size and he may be missing a finger or two. Or an ear. Either way, he's been trying to avoid heavily populated because he knows he smells awful and he's still unsure if he's become a full on zombie again. Crowley looks most displeased.]
15 January 2012 @ 07:59 pm
Drink Count: 17 || New World, New Home  
[Forward dated to January 16.]

A. [Action: 852 Goldberg Street, ridiculous o'clock]

[The alarm klaxons jarred Crowley out of a comfortable sleep. The demon sat bolt upright and blinked his yellow snake eyes blearily. It took him a minute to realize that something was off about the room he was in. The shadow of the tree outside wasn't quite right. The wallpaper was different. His "wife" didn't look the same.

His wife didn't look the same.

He jumped out of the bed, blessing under his breath.]


B. [Action: 852 Goldberg Street, later morning]

[He checked to make sure his Bentley was in the garage. It was. He also found his puppy and all her accessories in exactly the same places they had been in 915 Bilko Boulevard, only in this new house. How strange.

Crowley was dressed in a smart black suit and red shirt that had once been scratchy slacks and a hideous jumper. He was also, of course, wearing his snakeskin shoes and sunglasses. He sat at the kitchen table, drinking a poor excuse for a cup of coffee. He was going to have to go shopping.]

C. [Action: 915 Bilko Boulevard, around noon]

[He can't stop himself for wanting to check on Kyon. He couldn't leave the poor boy alone without at least checking to see if he was alright, right? He drives on over and parks in the driveway. The demon strides into the house as if he lives there. Which he did up until this morning.]

Kyon? Are you in here, kid?

D. [Action: Olney's Tavern, late afternoon]

[Crowley's looking a bit irritable behind the bar. What the hell is with this town?]

What'll you have?

E. [Phone: Locked to Aziraphale]

[Crowley's just a little on edge when he's able to get to the back of the tavern to make his phone call to Aziraphale. He paces as far as the phone cord will let him and he's hissing a bit.]

Pick up. Pickuppickuppickup! Bloody hell Angel, this is not the time to neglect your bloody phone!