demonicmiracle | (duplicity) ic contact

Well...

[This time he just shrugs with his shoulders, so he doesn't have to take his hands off the wheel.]

See, driving's like riding, except there's no blasted horses involved. Nice cushioned seats, instead. And music! Horses don't come with music.

I don't know. I rather enjoyed singing to my horses on long trips.

[He glances at him sideways. He really, really doesn't like horses, does he?]

What's your history with them? Do they not like demons or something?

That's more of an incentive not to get horses involved.

[He's a good friend.]

They don't like me, and they're awful to ride, leaves you with a sore arse for days, especially before humans figured out proper saddles. Not to mention they stink, and they shit everywhere. Cars don't shit! That's a proper endorsement for cars over horses right there.

I've never sung for you. Don't be so quick to decide.

[It's one of the things he knows he does well.]

You just need a bit more padding on your bum. That's all. Cars put that awful...smoke and stink in the air. The entire city reeks of it, almost as bad as the chokedamp in Kirkwall.

Fuck's sake, don't tell me you can actually sing?

[Of course! He's handsome and considerate and he can sing. No wonder Ivy's so fond of him.]

That's what I need, is it? [There's an arched eyebrow with that comment, amusement in his tone.] That's humans for you, can't have something nice without ruining it in one way or another. Mine doesn't do that, though, bonus of being driven by a demon.

I actually can sing, not that I'm offering.

[Crooning to Crowley is not on the evening agenda, thank you.]

It wouldn't hurt. Quite the opposite in a saddle. [Very reasonable.]

Demons of your world really must be very different from mine. Ours would find a way not only to poison the air, but to make people think they wanted to breathe it more.

Good to know.

[Not that he's sure what he'll do with this knowledge, but it's nice to have a few aces up his sleeve every now and then.

Actually, he knows exactly what to do with this knowledge, and it's drag Cullen to karaoke one day.]

My lot have no creativity. And none of them know how to drive 'cept me, and I'm not a fan of having to fill the bloody thing up with petrol like you're supposed to, so I just don't.

I'm sure my lungs thank you.

[One car out of however many.]

Most of the demons of my world don't either, save those of desire and those of pride.

That's what you get for specializing, takes a bit more skill than what the average dickhead has to offer.

[Pretty much every demon falls into that category.]

How're you enjoying your first proper drive? We're almost there, but I could swing around the block a couple times if you're not ready for it to be over.

[He's being a shit.]

I'm not really sure they have a choice.

[He's under the impression it's just their nature, being one way or another. None that he has ever seen have been capable of change. The one friend Solas encountered on the field was both an odd exception and ended in tragedy anyway for the spirit. He shoves that thought away.]

I'm fine, but if it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon you park and we go in.

[Choice is a complicated topic, so Crowley decides to leave it for now, not wanting to get himself in a weird mood.]

Can't blame you for being eager for a drink. [As if that's the only reason he's ready to be out of the car. There is, miraculously, a parking spot right across from the bar, and he pulls into it easily.] Here we are, then. Try not to hurt my feelings by scrambling out too fast.

[It won't hurt his feelings, he's used to Aziraphale.]

Mmhmm. I'll get right on that.

[Scrambling might be a stretch. He wastes no time in unfastening the seatbelt and unfolding himself. He slams the door behind him harder than intended.]

Oof. Sorry. [Genuine remorse.

Once Crowley is out, he starts toward the bar with him.]

Let's say, hypothetically, someone during all those gift mix-ups gave me a truck. What would be the best thing to do with it?

[Aside from put it in neutral and shove it into the ocean.]

[Crowley takes a little more time getting out, though he's hardly slow about it. He raises an eyebrow at the slammed door; Cullen is very lucky this isn't the Bentley, or he'd have gotten chewed out for the carelessness, but fortunately he doesn't give a shit about this particular car.]

You got a blasted truck out of that whole mess? [That's way better than what Aziraphale got.] If learning to drive's out of the question, you might as well sell it and turn a bit of profit.

Yes, supposedly from a friend of mine from my world, which was doubly odd, because I'm fairly sure she doesn't drive.

[He hums thoughtfully.]

They are useful. And I imagine Blade would like it. I'd have to keep the keys away from him, or he'd surely try to drive, himself.

Lucky bastard.

[Not that Crowley particularly wants a truck, but that's hardly the point.

Once they're inside, he drops down into a table a little out of the way, just in case Cullen at some point decides they're going to try to talk about feelings.]

I could teach you, if you'd like? Could teach Blade, too, not sure if he's got the dexterity for it, but it'd be good for a laugh.

[Cullen settles in and relaxes, waiting for the server to bring the menus.]

Do not teach my dog how to drive. It would end in tears.

[As for the offer of himself, he gives it more genuine thought.]

Perhaps I have been afraid long enough. It would make getting around the city faster. Is there anything I could do for you in return? This is more complex than a normal favor.

That's the point.

[As long as they're not his tears, it's perfectly fine.]

Nah, not sure there's much I really need, you know? [It's the more polite way of saying he's not sure if there's anything that Cullen can offer him.] Could just call it an IOU, if you want, but it might not be wise to owe a demon a favour.

[A joke, mostly. He likes Cullen, he wouldn't call on him for something awful.]

Yes, that is the point. He'd hurt himself, and I'd cry.

[He arches a brow. Is he joking?]

I can call it an IOU.

[Which...says something, all things considered. He's not at all averse to the distraction of the arrival of the menu.]

Ah well, suppose I'd be a bit of a bastard if I let him hurt himself.

[He might not be an animal person but like, they did nothing wrong. Aside from horses. Horses did everything wrong.]

Got yourself a deal, then. It'll give me something to do, and I'm sure it'll be a right lark.

[He's a terrible friend.]

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