Anthony J. Crowley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
serpentinthegarden) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diatu2021-08-02 11:29 pm
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."
no subject
no subject
"Then the only thing the administrators of this place are any good at is sorting people in to the opposite houses."
no subject
He shrugged. "Not a fan of the idea of exploding, but, probably have been through worse, if I think about it."
no subject
This was why bathrooms were full of so much graffiti. Crowley was confident on that point even if the last bit did admittedly cause him enough concern to frown.
"I can't say I'm wild about the idea of exploding. Maybe that figurative? You will explode could mean... glow for a few hours and be fine?"
no subject
The small angel on Beetlejuice's shoulder spoke up as the two debated the finer points of the explosion warning. "It's literal."
"Shit, Rodney, you're a real killjoy, y'know?"
no subject
Teens could be that petty about things. Maybe it was too much like this mystery teens... or maybe she just didn't like green?
The shoulder angel was given a brief stare through dark shades.
"How many people have actually exploded?"
no subject
Beetlejuice was distracted from his defense of his hair, because, that was a very good question.
Unfortunately, Goldenrod merely shrugged. "I don't know. Ask the Headmaster."
no subject
Maybe this kid thought Beetlejuice was a nerd!
"I think I will... whenever I see them."