Anthony J. Crowley (
serpentinthegarden) wrote in
diatu2021-08-02 11:29 pm
Surf's up, School's out
Who: Crowley and OPEN - (Now with bonus August Adventure)
What: A demon getting used to school, meeting new people, going to class... what could go wrong?
Where: In and about the Academy (August Catchall)
When: First day of class
Warnings: Bit of cursing here and there
Room 666
The shades were drawn but only enough so that the light streamed into the room through a narrow slit, brightening the center of the room but leaving the corners rather dark and secluded. That car was still out there. He couldn't make out who was in the driver's seat... if indeed there was anyone in the driver's seat at all... but it had been following him. He thought it had been following him anyway. Maybe it was a mistake?
Maybe every one in this place drove silver DeLorean's. He was too suspicious to be that gullible!
Crowley stood near the window peering out past the curtains, glaring at the stalkers car, fully content to watch it as long as it took to find out who was following him... that is until there was a knock on his door which necessitated his sauntering over to answer it. Now whether the knock had been on purpose or accidental he leaned on the frame and looked over the person in the hall.
"If you are selling I have all the paper and quills I will ever need... Maybe if you try the next door down? And knock really loud," he added for just that extra touch of demonic mischief to incite the maximum level of disturbance to his new neighbor, "They are a bit hard of hearing."
First Class
Crowley came to class on that first day in typical style. He was late and wearing his stylish outfit from home instead of his assigned uniform. He made a grand production of taking a seat at the back of the classroom and propping up his feet on the back of the desk chair in front of him... very nearly on top of the head of the student sitting at that desk.
Intimations class. Crowley had no idea what that was, barely looked at the syllabus when one was passed around to him, and was more focused on constructing a few paper wads to fling at the other student in the next row over... until the instructor demonstrated one of the spells they would be learning in the class by reciting a prayer to the God of Love. Then his demonic outcry would be heard echoing throughout the school.
"NGK!!! What the Heaven... What kind of class is this?!"
With a prayer and a gesture by an irate instructor who had had enough Crowley would find himself unceremoniously magically teleported out of the classroom for being too much of a disturbance. He is bound to reappear; falling from the air, crashing into your dorm bed, splashing down in the middle of a pool... feel free to run into him anywhere.
Escape
He was outside in a flash, hopping down the cement steps and taking off across the lawn in long-legged gate.
"No, no, no, no, no! This is ridiculous! I can't be in that kind of class! Or have that kind of magic!"
Fear and uncertainty manifested itself as anger and he hissed to himself as he fled the school building.
"It has to be a mistake or..."
With a fierce glare he staggered back to snark at the sky.
"Some great big pissing joke!"
He knows you are up there God and just laughing your ass off about this! There would be no answer of course, there never was. There was only the interminable silence and the fear that this was all some how ineffable.
August Adventure - Panic At The Fresco
Renowned artist Brank Cee just finished his latest masterpiece -- only for a sudden Valhudor flash mob to erupt just as he hung it up to dry! Now he's over here, the piece is over there, and the lead actor has come within a hair's breadth of skewering it with his sword prop three different times in one duel alone! He can't get through the crowd to recover it, let alone the performance. Oh please, rescue his painting and he will reward you!
Lounging on a bench Crowley looked up at the panicked artist, then over to the flash mob, then laid right back down where he had been .
"Why not just walk over there and get it yourself? Yea, yea, yea... you are afraid of getting conscripted to the play."
It did seem like they were pulling people in from all over. Willing and not-so willing participants either joined in with the song and dance or sulked angrily in the background.
"I don't know why you think I want to get caught up in it either."
Besides, like a flicker of flame springing to life, he suddenly had a better idea one he sat bolt upright for.
"Why not leave the painting where it is? So it gets skewered! All you need is a crowd of people watching and you could make a bundle off those bits of painting fragments still hanging in the frame. Call it performance art! They will see you as a genius."
What: A demon getting used to school, meeting new people, going to class... what could go wrong?
Where: In and about the Academy (August Catchall)
When: First day of class
Warnings: Bit of cursing here and there
Room 666
The shades were drawn but only enough so that the light streamed into the room through a narrow slit, brightening the center of the room but leaving the corners rather dark and secluded. That car was still out there. He couldn't make out who was in the driver's seat... if indeed there was anyone in the driver's seat at all... but it had been following him. He thought it had been following him anyway. Maybe it was a mistake?
Maybe every one in this place drove silver DeLorean's. He was too suspicious to be that gullible!
Crowley stood near the window peering out past the curtains, glaring at the stalkers car, fully content to watch it as long as it took to find out who was following him... that is until there was a knock on his door which necessitated his sauntering over to answer it. Now whether the knock had been on purpose or accidental he leaned on the frame and looked over the person in the hall.
"If you are selling I have all the paper and quills I will ever need... Maybe if you try the next door down? And knock really loud," he added for just that extra touch of demonic mischief to incite the maximum level of disturbance to his new neighbor, "They are a bit hard of hearing."
First Class
Crowley came to class on that first day in typical style. He was late and wearing his stylish outfit from home instead of his assigned uniform. He made a grand production of taking a seat at the back of the classroom and propping up his feet on the back of the desk chair in front of him... very nearly on top of the head of the student sitting at that desk.
Intimations class. Crowley had no idea what that was, barely looked at the syllabus when one was passed around to him, and was more focused on constructing a few paper wads to fling at the other student in the next row over... until the instructor demonstrated one of the spells they would be learning in the class by reciting a prayer to the God of Love. Then his demonic outcry would be heard echoing throughout the school.
"NGK!!! What the Heaven... What kind of class is this?!"
With a prayer and a gesture by an irate instructor who had had enough Crowley would find himself unceremoniously magically teleported out of the classroom for being too much of a disturbance. He is bound to reappear; falling from the air, crashing into your dorm bed, splashing down in the middle of a pool... feel free to run into him anywhere.
Escape
He was outside in a flash, hopping down the cement steps and taking off across the lawn in long-legged gate.
"No, no, no, no, no! This is ridiculous! I can't be in that kind of class! Or have that kind of magic!"
Fear and uncertainty manifested itself as anger and he hissed to himself as he fled the school building.
"It has to be a mistake or..."
With a fierce glare he staggered back to snark at the sky.
"Some great big pissing joke!"
He knows you are up there God and just laughing your ass off about this! There would be no answer of course, there never was. There was only the interminable silence and the fear that this was all some how ineffable.
August Adventure - Panic At The Fresco
Renowned artist Brank Cee just finished his latest masterpiece -- only for a sudden Valhudor flash mob to erupt just as he hung it up to dry! Now he's over here, the piece is over there, and the lead actor has come within a hair's breadth of skewering it with his sword prop three different times in one duel alone! He can't get through the crowd to recover it, let alone the performance. Oh please, rescue his painting and he will reward you!
Lounging on a bench Crowley looked up at the panicked artist, then over to the flash mob, then laid right back down where he had been .
"Why not just walk over there and get it yourself? Yea, yea, yea... you are afraid of getting conscripted to the play."
It did seem like they were pulling people in from all over. Willing and not-so willing participants either joined in with the song and dance or sulked angrily in the background.
"I don't know why you think I want to get caught up in it either."
Besides, like a flicker of flame springing to life, he suddenly had a better idea one he sat bolt upright for.
"Why not leave the painting where it is? So it gets skewered! All you need is a crowd of people watching and you could make a bundle off those bits of painting fragments still hanging in the frame. Call it performance art! They will see you as a genius."

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No longer dripping wet from his swan dive into the fountain he took a brief moment to process that before hopping right back in to the conversation at hand.
"They are the ones in need of an education for thinking a demon should ever have been placed in an Intimation class to begin with!"
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Pony? Huh. Crowley supposed that made sense as she likely came from a world of ponies somewhere. OR EVEN a world entirely of unicorns. That he wouldn't mind getting an education about or even traveling to some day.
"Think about it, a demon, being religious... It goes against the whole being a demon in the first place."
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"Tch. Who would have thought advice from a unicorn could be so evil!"
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Crowley sniffed and manifested a truly wicked swagger, showing how evil he was just by taking on a devil-may-care stance.
"I'm a demon. There's no question about that. Being evil comes with the job description."
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Crowley shuffled about trying to stammer out some sort of answer.
"I'm not really sure what my status with Hell is these days. Bad, I suppose. I'm pretty sure they would have figured out by now that all that was my fault. But, I'm always on duty. You can't really turn off being a demon."
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And even cheetahs could change their spots. Celestia believed that, had to believe that.
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As far as he knew, the Royal Mail didn't travel between worlds. That would be a Heaven of an expensive stamp!
"But, I'm also not going to behave."
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He protested mostly because if he became too boring or predictable for everyone else then it would be too boring and predictable for him too.
"I've been doing this for centuries. I know how to keep things creative."
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"I've perfected the art."
This being the art of being a very minor gremlin in the machine and likely also of boasting. Never let it be said he was modest.
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If you were a lazy demon who liked to goof off that last skill was truly the one to learn.
"A lot of temptation is asking the right sorts of questions."
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For example, by saying just that to get him to say more.
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"Like I said, it's an art. Much like being a Alicorn or a Princess might be."
His head tilted, taking in her apparently regal horn and wings.
"How does one get to be an Alicorn Princess anyway?"
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"Why's that? Anyone could walk around with wings and a horn."
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"Sounds a bit holier-than-thou."
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"That's very Roman Pantheon."
Also angelic with the laws and responsibilities bit.
"So if you are here... who is bringing the sun up everyday?"
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