17 [Text]

[integrity]

Someone within this city is going to buy me a drink. Immediately. I prefer scotch, but really, anything will do. I also require a sledgehammer. Crowbars are also acceptable.

Your generosity will be repaid tenfold in both money, good will, and the feathers that I will be tearing out of my favorite down pillow. If you so choose to remain so, anonymous donations can be dropped off at my mailbox at the post office.

Remember: generosity is a virtue, not a sin.

x Crowley.

Comments

[offline]

[integrity]

He has a sense of humor, but he very rarely shows it unless threatened by gunpoint.

[Irritated, as he takes a sip of his drink.]

[offline]

[shifting]

[he leans his head on his hand] Does gunpoint even matter to angels? Can't imagine it does more'n annoy 'em.

[offline]

[integrity]

It would injure their vessel. That's about it.

[shifting]

Same with demons?

[integrity]

Essentially.

[shifting]

[awkward.]

Oh. ...All right. [siiiiiip]

[integrity]

It's just a body, in the end. The true essence of the demon or angel remains inside of it. It's -- a suit, really. That you put on because you like it.

[shifting]

[that's a twist on it he hasn't heard before.] So what drew you to this one?

[integrity]

He was unassuming.

[Crowley's host doesn't look particularly flamboyant or noticeable. That's what he likes about it. Crowley makes ripples based on who he is, not what he looks like, not like Meg or Ruby or Lilith.]

[shifting]

Not exactly casual though. You've got him dressed like an ad exec. ...'Specially with the trenchcoat look.

[integrity]

I like nice things.

Why not dress as I see fit?

[shifting]

[he pokes Crowley lightly on the shoulder]

'Cause then you don't blend in. C'mon - every movie made since the 40's 'bout demons or the devil's always got 'em dressed in nice suits. The three-piece suit is the Hollywood symbol for evil.

[integrity]

[He glances down at the poke to his shoulder before refocusing his attention on Sam, thoroughly unimpressed.]

The joke would be on them, then, because I'm certainly not the Devil, nor am I evil.

[And he shrugs.]

Besides, the general public hardly sees me unless I want them to. I'm summoned to the crossroads only for the most important deals anymore -- I spend most of my time in Hell, running the place. And if I decided to lose my mind and dress in jeans for a day, the rest of my demons would drop dead of shock.

[His inner circle might think he was crazy and put him out of his misery or something, fo srs.]

[shifting]

You do still make deals with people to get their soul. ...That is on them, but it ain't exactly saintly.

[integrity]

And Dick Cheney orchestrated a war that didn't necessarily need to happen -- what's your point?

[Crowley shrugs slightly.]

Life has a balance and I am part of it. You can sell your soul or die early -- that is your decision. I don't pretend to be a saint, because I'm far from it -- I am perfectly honest about what I am. I'm a demon -- I rule Hell. When you sell your soul to me, it goes down below. People know what happens to them when they offer me their soul -- I don't lie. They choose to accept it regardless.

[shifting]

[he swirls the ice around his glass, staring at the liquor thoughtfully]

...Guess that makes you more human than anything else.

[integrity]

If you want that to be your perspective.

[Crowley isn't going to subscribe his ideals of humanity.]