(Untitled)
Who: John, Lucifer, Open
When: Day 67
Where: In and around Bell Pointe
What: John and Lucifer arrive in Bell Pointe on a mission. Unfortunately for them, their mission isn't going to go as smoothly as they planned.
OOC Note: If you'd like to encounter one or the other specifically, just note in the subject of the comment which one you'd like your ( Read more... )
When: Day 67
Where: In and around Bell Pointe
What: John and Lucifer arrive in Bell Pointe on a mission. Unfortunately for them, their mission isn't going to go as smoothly as they planned.
OOC Note: If you'd like to encounter one or the other specifically, just note in the subject of the comment which one you'd like your ( Read more... )
Crowley's mind was a turmoil of emotions, one of which was pure and utter terror. For all his bravado, for all his insolence, for as long as he'd been on Earth, he'd never forgotten his deep seated fear for his boss. And now a days it seemed he bad even more to lose than even a scant millennia ago. It wasn't just his life he worried after, but Aziraphale's. If his boss knew about the Arrangement... He shuddered to think about that.
"Er, I got lost. And this place doesn't seem willing to give me up for some reason. And it has a bloody minded sense of humour."
He was reluctant to tell his boss that the town had robbed him of most of his powers. He especially didn't want to tell him that the town had bunked him in the same house as Aziraphale (let alone that he was more than happy to share living quarters with the angel). he had an annoying feeling niggling at the back of his mind that he already knew all of this...
To be perfectly honest, he'd never actually had an audience with his boss. Sure, Hastur and Ligur he'd seen on several occasions throughout the course of the last 6,000 years or so; they were his direct superiors, after all. He was really the bottom rung of the demonic ladder, so to speak. The closest he'd ever come to talking to his boss was at the near-apocalypse.
He paled a bit.
He knew the events of 20 years ago would catch up to him. Taking out Ligur was bad enough, but losing the Antichrist and then actively trying to prevent the apocalypse... He was dead meat and he knew it. Maybe he could talk his way out of this. Maybe he'd forgotten all about that. Maybe he was still seemingly pretending that that whole debacle never even happened.
Deep down, Crowley was an optimist. It never failed to provide him with a whiff of hope when he needed it.
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Something was wrong with this place. It was subtle, perhaps even insidious, and though he had not yet had an opportunity to experience the sense of humor about which Crowley spoke, experience had taught him that it was, at worst malevolent and at best, neutral. Either way, it boded ill for those in residence.
Watching the color fade from Crowley’s face, Lucifer sighed, fighting and winning the battle not to roll his eyes. “You may dispense with your anxiety, Crowley. I’ve not come to drag you back to Hell or berate you for what dalliances you may have made on the mortal plane. The old regime came to an end long enough ago, and I’ve little interest in revisiting tired themes.”
Gold eyes flicked briefly to the fog before returning to the demon. “How long have you been here?”
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"Thank you, Lord."
He looked around the fog as well, thinking back how many days it had been since he arrived in this town.
"I think it's been about ten days."
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Yet that was merely an aside, a minor correction that was quickly overshadowed by the larger issue. Namely, the foggy town and Crowley's self-confessed inability to leave.
"What is it that prevents your departure? Magic? Something else? Or simply a lack of motivation to muster the necessary energy to leave?"
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"Was the near-apocalypse really that damaging to Hell?" He couldn't imagine what Adam did would have kicked his pop out of power or something.
He frowned a bit and looked back at the Bentley.
"I'm not really sure what it is that's keeping me here. All I can tell you is that every time I try to leave, I end up back in town. I'm pretty sure whatever it is that's keeping me trapped is also dampening my powers."
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If he was aware of the fact that they were not quite speaking of the same almost-apocalypse, he gave no sign. When one got right down to it, one apocalypse was just like any other. A great deal of yelling and screaming and heightened emotions leading up to the main event, and a rather considerable letdown when it failed to achieve epic proportions.
“A reality trap, perhaps,” Lucifer murmured, already sorting through the variety of methods he knew to bind the supernatural to one location. “And some sort of suppressive binding. I arrived without difficulty, though perhaps resistance only occurs when one attempts to leave.”
He studied Crowley thoughtfully. A fallen angel. A demon. “What else is here? Beyond humans, of course.”
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He folded his arms over his chest as Lucifer thought aloud.
"Well, there are monsters in the fog. And all manner of strange beings that might be human shaped, but not exactly human." A very broad answer that included himself and Aziraphale, of course.
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The vagueness of Crowley’s answer did not go unnoticed to Lucifer, and with a sliver of irritation, he extended his senses. There was something there, something thick and heavy that muddied the waters and made it difficult to reach very far, but the impressions he could glean were more than informative enough.
“Angels, demons, spirits, and small gods,” he murmured, ticking them off as his gaze focused on the demon once more. “And a plethora of gifted mortals a few genetic mutations just shy of normality." He paused, thinking it over. "Does the difficulty to depart impact everyone?"
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He should have known his answer wouldn't have been good enough. And he should have known Lucifer could just pull the information he wanted out of his mind. Now, however, he worried just how much information came with it.
"It seems to. Though I've heard of some people leaving and then returning. Or even people dying and then returning. It's like this place has a magnetic pull you just can't quite escape no matter how hard you try."
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To say nothing of the fact that Lucifer was convinced that the rules by which the others were bound to the place did not apply to him. Or if they did, they were rules that he would quickly break. His bastard of a father could not dictate his actions. A town was not going to be able to do what the God of the Covenant could not.
“Is there anything else you believe I ought to know?” Blandly asked, it was a double-edged question. For if there was something that he should know and Crowley neglected to tell him, it would go poorly for him indeed. After all, eventually Lucifer found out everything. Usually at the most inopportune of moments.
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"Er... This town has me living with the angel, Aziraphale. I figured this is an excellent opportunity to keep an eye on him and make sure he isn't up to too much good."
Please, please don't read too much into that...
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From Lucifer, there would be no censure for keeping company with an angel. He was one, after all, fallen though he might be. And these days, he kept even stranger company.
"I trust you can rely on one another to see yourselves through this debacle?" Along the vein of a rhetorical question, he continued without pause. "Should you, or Aziraphale, require assistance, don't hesitate to inform me. While I'm here, I will do what I can to solve this problem."
Gold eyes flicked toward the fog, measuring and intense. "No one should be trapped anywhere not of their choosing."
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"I... Thanks."
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