(no subject)
Who: Crowley and Faith
What: Kissing doves and not dealing with emotional upset in a healthy manner at all
When: Some point this week
Where: Let's start at the Deathmatch, shall we?
Rating: R at least.
After deciding the captured dove idea wasn't working for him, Crowley had gone back to hovering between the realisation that he had to carry on with his life and the realisation that he still wasn't sure if he wanted to. Emotions were a bugger and he quietly cursed the person who opened that door to him.
Aang, that was right. The little Arrowhead was the one who told him what love was, and it had been a steady stream of moments of joy in his life, inevitably followed by complete and utter despair ever since. Thanks a fucking lot, you air-bending bastard. He would have been a lot better off never understanding any of the more complex human emotions, he was sure of it.
Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. The demon sighed, downing his glass of gin and sitting back in his seat, pondering if he should try and steal the takings out of the cash register. Petty theft always did make him feel better, after all.
What: Kissing doves and not dealing with emotional upset in a healthy manner at all
When: Some point this week
Where: Let's start at the Deathmatch, shall we?
Rating: R at least.
After deciding the captured dove idea wasn't working for him, Crowley had gone back to hovering between the realisation that he had to carry on with his life and the realisation that he still wasn't sure if he wanted to. Emotions were a bugger and he quietly cursed the person who opened that door to him.
Aang, that was right. The little Arrowhead was the one who told him what love was, and it had been a steady stream of moments of joy in his life, inevitably followed by complete and utter despair ever since. Thanks a fucking lot, you air-bending bastard. He would have been a lot better off never understanding any of the more complex human emotions, he was sure of it.
Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. The demon sighed, downing his glass of gin and sitting back in his seat, pondering if he should try and steal the takings out of the cash register. Petty theft always did make him feel better, after all.