29 [Video] | Forward dated to the 7th.

[integrity]

[Crowley is alive.

This is a shocking fact, seeing as he fully expected to die. He even set up his so-called last will and testament, to set aside his funds and business transactions and all other sorts of things, in preparation for his death. However meaningless this universe is, Crowley is nothing but pragmatic. And as he sits in his chair, in his office, nothing seems out of the ordinary, save for a few things.

Once, he is holding a glass of liquor, which is hardly unusual. What is unusual is that his fingers grip it unusually tightly, almost as if he is convinced he is going to drop it. His eyes are lacking some of the spark that they usually hold, resigned and weary and ready to quit, though Crowley does not quit. He holds himself as someone who has lost a great deal but is far too stubborn to actually roll over and take it -- and as Crowley takes a sip of scotch, he clears his throat and speaks, his words slurring only slightly. He has great practice in speaking while intoxicated.]

I saw God yesterday, while I was stabbing my friend to death.

[Crowley considers that for a moment before he decides 'screw it' and finishes off his glass.]

I suppose I should get an attorney for that incriminating statement, but I'm having difficulty caring, as God is the one who put him out of his misery. The same one who allowed our world to dissolve into chaos and misery and let's not forget what He allowed His own poor stupid useless children to do to it, they killed one another because Daddy never hugged them. And you know what the best part was?

[Crowley huffs a soft laugh as he puts the glass back down. His fingers twitch to themselves and, perhaps in a delayed reaction, the demon swipes his hand across the table to let the glass hit the ground and shatter. It was only crystal. He can just buy another.]

He was right in front of our faces the entire time, God, the witless wonder that thought it would be funny to create an entire dimension dedicated to souls shredding each other for punishment and thought it would be hilarious to let Lucifer break out of his Cage and thought it would be hysterical for Castiel to --

[But Crowley stops himself, because that is getting into something of a deep and personal moment for him, and one can't have that. Instead, his tone lowers to something soft as he pushes himself up, hands keeping himself steady at his desk.]

If you want to speak with the useless twat, our Savior, His name is Chuck Shurley. Pray to Him if you want to know why Castiel lost his mind and the Leviathan ate your friends. I'm certain He has all the answers in the world for why they existed in the first place.

[And Crowley shuts off his feed by knocking his NV off of his desk.]

Comments

[video]

[integrity]

[Crowley turns the feed back on only when he has the Colt in his hands, loading it carefully with bullets. One after another after another. And then, he levels the gun upward abruptly, pulling the trigger, which sinks itself directly into the center of a vase, shattering it.]

I could drink another bottle and still sink this directly into your brain matter without much more effort.

[His tone is cold.]

You Winchesters are horrendous shots.

[video]

[failedparenting]

[Welp, you have his attention now. He leans into the camera and growls]

We had a deal. Last I remember, you bastards can't default on those.

[video]

[integrity]

Don't patronize me, fool. I've been working the roads a lot longer than you've been selling your soul on them. I know the rules and regulations of a simple contract. But I should warn you.

[It's cold, lowering the weapon into his lap.]

I am not in the mood for your mouth. I suggest you shut it or I will return the Colt to you by means of shoving the barrel through your eye socket and firing repeatedly. Are we understood?

[video]

[failedparenting]

I though we already established I'm not scared of you?

[video]

[integrity]

And I thought we established that I am the only person in this God forsaken city that knows how to make ammunition for your ridiculous gun.

[Crowley puts another bullet in the wall.

Four more to go.]

[failedparenting]

[Well fuck. Not the bullets! :C]

Okay, I get it

[integrity]

Oh, good, then we can discuss the renegotiation of our terms and conditions.

[He pulls back the hammer on the gun again, looking it over thoughtfully.]

You can have your little toy back, but under the condition that you never use it against me or anyone on my little black book of people I like, which include but are not limited to my pet angel and the Anti-Christs.

Should you do any of the above, I am going to castrate you. Are we clear or do I need to shoot a watermelon to demonstrate what will happen to the family jewels upon the termination of our contract?

/smoothest threadjack

[momchester]

You don't need to shoot anything or castrate anybody.

If you give the gun to me, I'll hold onto it and uphold those terms of the deal. I've had Jesse and Cas at family holidays before, you don't have to worry about them.

[Her eyes are bright, her expression professional. She fucking hates the world right now, but at least she's faking it.]

Re: /smoothest threadjack

[failedparenting]

[Um, excuse you, Mary.]

Baby I know it's your birthday, but I'm not agreeing to that.

[momchester]

John.

[This is the bright smile of shut the hell up if you know what's good for you.]

I'll handle it.

[failedparenting]

[Seriously Mary is this because of the big 3-0 or something why are you so mad.]

It's not your deal to make.

[momchester]

[She is not above exploding his NV with her mind. Not today.]

John. Stop antagonizing the angry, grieving King of Hell please, and let the grown ups talk.

[It's a cruel thing to say. It is. She's grieving too, Jo and Cas, and kicking out selfishly in ways she'll regret and apologize for later.]

[private]

[failedparenting]

[John's kind of in shock at Mary's reply. It's so out of left field and plain nasty, he's kind of horrified.]

What the fuck was that?

Re: [private]

[momchester]

That was me trying to get you to knock it off. He's drunk and grieving- do you really think this is a good time to negotiate? I don't tr-

[She stops herself. That's not a sentence she should finish right now.]

[private]

[failedparenting]

Mary.

[Real talk time, man.]

I love you, so much, but please can you let me deal with things by myself for once. Please.

[private]

[momchester]

Why? You're just gonna get yourself hurt. Again.

[private]

[failedparenting]

No, I wasn't. And even if I was? I'm 53 years old, I think I've earned the right to make my own decisions.

[integrity]

It seems that there's a slight amount of scrabbling about in the ranks.

[He runs his fingers along the barrel of the Colt, watching it thoughtfully.]

I'll wait for him to say it himself. Until then, no dice.

[failedparenting]

[Thanks for being a bro, Crowley.]

How many anti-Christs are there?

[Concernicus. The only one he knows of is the girl, and despite his instincts to the contrary, he forces himself to leave well enough alone.]

[integrity]

It doesn't matter how many there are. You won't be touching them.

[Crowley rolls a shoulder slightly, irritated at the pain.]

You also won't be touching Castiel, should he return, or Meg, despite her best efforts to get herself killed.

[Crowley owes her a favor. He supposes he can arrange for the Winchesters not to bother her in payment.]

[failedparenting]

How the hell am I supposed to stay away from them if I don't know who they are?

[Crowley does drinking just make you dumb or what]

[integrity]

I suppose you're going to have to be careful when shooting things that look vaguely demonic, now, won't you?

[private]

[failedparenting]

No. That's not how this is gonna work.

[He looks particularly sour. Negotiating with demons isn't exactly a thing he likes to make a habit of.]

You tell me who they are and I agree. Take the bitch off the list too

[You know, the one who murdered two of his closest friends.]

You, the angel, and and the antichrists, when you let me know who they are.

[private]

[integrity]

The bitch stays on the list, actually, because I am the only one who gets to kill said bitch.

[Crowley looks indifferent to John's pissing and moaning, instead glancing back down at his empty glass.]

I called dibs.

[private]

[failedparenting]

No. I get the chance, she's going down. No two ways.