demonicmiracle | (duplicity) ic contact

[Crowley, used to Aziraphale disappearing into books quite often, is more than happy to drink his coffee and mess around on his phone while he waits for Jon to do some reading. An alternative would be to let Jon take the book to read at his own pace, but — he'd rather keep an eye on it, honestly.

He does feel the need to pipe up when he hears Jon mention Apple.]

She called it on betamax tapes, too, I'd heard that one earlier. It was good luck, too, ended up investing a bit in VHS when that whole thing kicked off, made a lot of money in the seventies.

[Aziraphale had mentioned the prophecy in the 40s, after Crowley rescued him from the Nazis.]

Betamax...?

[Jon was born in 1987, and Martin is the one into retro technology. Although, Jon is the one holding an analog cassette recorder up to his mouth and chattering away into it. VHS sort of clarifies.]

Oh. That's what they had before... right. Where did her prophecies come from? God?

Not a clue, never met the woman before, I tried to steer clear of all that witch hunting business.

[Oh, sure, he had Shadwell and his people on the back burner if he ever needed them, but that was well into the 60s, when no one was actually burning women alive anymore. At least not in England.]

You'd have to ask God, and She doesn't take calls.

Well, it clearly wasn't from the devil. Are there any other godlike powers in your world?

Christ, the Antichrist, but neither of those are going around giving out prophecies.

[What is Jesus up to these days? Crowley should ask Aziraphale.]

In all honesty, I'm not even sure God does have that much precise knowledge.

So... what? She plucked these prophecies out of the air?

[Crowley just shrugs.]

Could have done, I dunno. Sometimes these things just happen, the world's full of mystery and wonder.

[He's the worst.]

And you weren't curious about how?

[The absolute worst! Jon is looking mildly aghast.]

Edited 2019-11-23 22:57 (UTC)

Was a bit more concerned about not letting the world get destroyed in a war between the forces of Heaven and Hell. And not getting myself destroyed in the process.

[In his defense, he did only have the book for a handful of hours before he gave it back to Anathema.]

[The Archivist narrows his gaze in suspicion. That sounds like a very convenient excuse for being lazy.]

Hmph!

[He falls quiet again, going back to reading.]

Have any of her prophecies been wrong that you know of?

[Behind the glasses, Crowley rolls his eyes.]

Could have been, but everything I could make sense of checked out. She even knew the Bentley would be on fire when I drove to Tadfield.

[What...?]

Why was your car on fire? Why were you driving your car while it was on fire?

Had to get through the M25 after I sort of accidentally turned it into a burning ring of fire. [You know, as you do.] Didn't really have time to stop and put it out, so I just kept the car together for the drive.

[In case it was ever a mystery exactly how many brain cells Crowley has: the answer is one.]

Do you just... not operate on logic?

[He shouldn't be so skeptical considering things he's seen, but honestly.]

[This is, in fact, the first time Crowley has been asked this question, because usually people don't actually get to hear much about his powers. The only one is Aziraphale, who operates in the same way.

He considers it for a second, then shrugs.]

I, uh, well. [Hm!] I'm a demon, aren't I? Logic's for humans, really. I've always sort of just done whatever.

[Jon's expression shades into incredulity.]

You're patently ridiculous. Plants that are afraid of you, wings that appear and disappear, sunglasses inside or in the middle of the night, driving burning cars down the M25. Honestly. [Jon tuts and shakes his head before he turns a page and starts reading again.]

[There's a little chuckle at that.]

Again, demon. That's not even scratching the surface of the things that're weird about me.

And people think I'm odd. [That's muttered with a scoff.]

Well. I'd be interested in reviewing your book in its entirety, but in the spirit of not spending several hours invading your flat, maybe I could look at more of it later. If you'd like to bring it to the Institute?

Ah, well, you're not as charming as I am, people notice it more.

[It's not like he's wrong.]

Sure, if you don't mind my hanging about while you read it.

[He's not leaving it alone, even in the Institute.]

[Jon just rolls his eyes at the notion of not being charming. He can't really deny it and he doesn't feel especially compelled to make the attempt.]

Fine.

[The Archivist rises and offers the book back to Crowley, holding it carefully with both hands.]

Thank you for letting me see it.

[There's care in the way Crowley takes the book back; it's not inclined to fall apart while he has ownership, but it's still an old, slightly singed book.]

Seems like it's your sort of thing, 'cept without it being something that'll kill a bunch of people.

[Further things he can't... deny.]

Yes, well. I hope you enjoy your gifts. Seeing as I've been caught, I'll be... rethinking my strategy on them. I-I didn't mean to frighten you. Or unsettle you. Sorry.

Hardly frightened me.

[He has to put that out there. It's true, he was a bit concerned, a little weirded out, but not frightened, and even if he was, he'd discorporate before he let anyone think that.]

Just leave a proper note if you ever go around giving gifts to people. Wouldn't hurt to put a reason, either.

There shouldn't have to be a reason. [Muttered low.

And louder once more:] I'll just print things out. Good afternoon, Crowley.

[Jon will see himself to the door.]

[There absolutely should be a reason when it's from an anonymous source.

But he won't argue the point.]

Ciao!

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