[In what is perhaps the strangest form of travel ever conceived, Anderson appears in the lobby in a flutter of scripture (which prompts some screaming from nearby occupants). It drifts down about him, glowing a faint gold, because Christian symbolism and all that, and begins to disintegrate as he steps toward Crowley.]
Demon- [No, wait.] Crowley. You've chosen a nice building for yourself.
Oh, Merry Christmas, ma'am. [He waves to a nearby, staring woman, who quickly scuttles away. That's a fair enough reaction; he is a broad-shouldered, six foot six man who very abruptly and conspicuously appeared in her lobby.]
no subject
Demon- [No, wait.] Crowley. You've chosen a nice building for yourself.
Oh, Merry Christmas, ma'am. [He waves to a nearby, staring woman, who quickly scuttles away. That's a fair enough reaction; he is a broad-shouldered, six foot six man who very abruptly and conspicuously appeared in her lobby.]