demonicmiracle | (duplicity) ic contact

[Despite himself, despite knowing that username, he picks up the call. He's certain he made his stance on everything that Anderson had to say fairly clear, so if the man is contacting him, there has to be a reason. Even if it was just to deliver some kind of threat, Crowley would rather know than not know. So he answers, clad in black as always, sunglasses firmly in place. He's out on the terrace, tending the garden there, so there's not much visible except the city skyline behind him.

He isn't expecting to see Anderson in a Christmas sweater, and he definitely isn't expecting to see photos of himself and Aziraphale. His breath catches, adrenaline spiking, like the feeling of stepping out of the way of an oncoming vehicle at the last second. There's no danger now, but this is a sudden reminder of how much danger there was, how close they came to being caught, long before they had the power to do anything about it. His heart is in his throat, but he fights it down, pushes past it to find his voice.]

Yes. I — yes. Please. [He doesn't have it in him to be sharp or clever or any of the other things he should be. Even with the fear they inspire, it's still Aziraphale.] I'll come get them, if you don't mind.

[That's a curious reaction. Much less composed than he'd anticipated, and he suspects it isn't because Crowley is intimated by him. He certainly wasn't last they spoke.

He sweeps the photos into a hand, reaching for a nearby stack of envelopes.]

You don't need to trouble yourself. I can be wherever you are in seconds, and out just as quickly.

[He one-handedly slips the photos into the envelope, taking care not to damage them, and folds the lip beneath the body to keep it shut.]

Location?

[Any other time and that might be an interesting fact to learn, but Crowley is distracted by the dilemma it presents. He doesn't really want a priest to know where he lives, especially not one that actually has experience with demons, but he also doesn't want to do anything that might risk Anderson rescinding the offer to hand over the photos.

He decides on the best compromise he can come up with in the span of five seconds.]

Here, I'll send you the address. Can meet you down in the lobby in a second.

[He hangs up without preamble, so he can text the address of his apartment building (without the actual apartment number) and move himself down there in the same moment. It's not as private as he'd like, but it's quiet enough.]

[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.]

[As rattled as he is, Crowley still has more than enough presence of mind to be absolutely annoyed by how ostentatious that whole process is. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything; as tempting as it is to pick a fight, now isn't the time.]

Thanks. [Half for the fact Anderson used his name, half for the comment about the building.] I'd hate to keep you from whatever it is you're busy with today, can I — ?

[Honestly, it's a small miracle he hasn't just tried to snatch the photos from Anderson, but he's got a few manners left.]

[He draws the envelope from his coat sleeve (he was certainly not coming here without an extra layer) and extends it to Crowley.]

Here you are. They could have made a better effort on your photos, frankly. It looks like someone took them while hunched behind some bushes.

[A pause, and then he adds:]

The white one is your angel, I gather. Unless that's a demon bravely breaking fashion conventions.

[There's a line between reverence and wariness as he takes the envelope, only daring to open it a fraction, just to check that the photos are actually there. He'll look at them properly, lately, drag up whatever memory is associated with each meeting.]

Heaven wouldn't have much reason to be watching if it weren't an angel.

[It's a response to both. Yes, that's his angel, and the reason they look like something a stalker would take is because they sort of are. Heaven really was always watching, though he has to assume it was passive recording, or surely someone would have reprimanded Aziraphale long before Armageddon.]

[Oh. Feeling a little uncomfortable with his 'hunched behind some bushes' observation now. He supposes it makes sense that heaven keeps an eye on its angels, all things considered.]

And they had no qualms with an angel associating with a demon? [Because some of them look to have been taken millennia apart.] Albeit, a demon that doesn't seem to want to be a demon.

[He decides to ignore the comment about his apparent desire to not be a demon, it's not the sort of thing he wants to get into with anyone, let alone a priest.]

Must have been passive surveillance, they'd likely only have dug it out once they suspected he'd stopped helping with their plan to end the world.

[There's no hiding the bitterness there, and he doesn't bother. Crowley was never surprised by how eager Heaven was for the end times, but that doesn't mean he can't still be disappointed in them.]

Edited 2019-12-29 21:48 (UTC)

[Anderson looks wry at the tone of voice.]

They were doing what they were meant to do, so I'd say this breach of privacy was warranted.

[It doesn't occur to him that Crowley might be upset about heavens behaviour, for obvious reasons.]

You've given me the impression falling is relatively easy, so I suppose their still being an angel indicates they aren't... necessarily wrong to associate with you and have assisted you in that endeavour. So maybe you're less unforgivable than you might think.

[Look, he's a priest. It was inevitable he would get into this topic.]

[The photos are safe in his hands and he can't see anything that indicates Anderson has holy water on him, so Crowley feels safe enough to sneer at the man.]

You think I want to be forgiven? To go back to Heaven, all high and mighty where they think they're meant to treat billions of human lives as collateral in their dick measuring contest? [Crowley doesn't, for one second, believe that the war was about anything more than Heaven trying to prove themselves more powerful than Hell.] The reason he didn't fall is because he's the only bloody good angel left amongst their ranks, and even God has the sense to see that. It's the only right thing She's done in a few millennia.

[Being angry about falling, being angry about being made unforgivable isn't the same as wanting it to be undone. He just — he wishes he'd had a choice.]

[Anderson takes a steady breath through his teeth in an effort to control his indignation.]

That seems unnecessarily vitriolic. The end of the world is hardly news, and enacting it was always part of the plan. They were doing what they were meant to, and you- were perhaps doing what you were meant to as well. You and that angel. If it all happened that way, it had to have been part of God's plan.

[A pause, and he adds:]

It doesn't really make sense that you succeeded, otherwise.

[He knows, he knows. Crowley can taste the words on his tongue, asking Aziraphale if he thought God had planned all of it, them included. But the last thing he wants to do is admit that. It doesn't make God less of an asshole, in the end.]

Don't see anything unnecessary about it.

[Part of what he's angry about, with the photos so close by, is the memory of smug satisfaction on Gabriel's face as he ordered 'Aziraphale' to his death. He's angry about falling, about Heaven, about Armageddon, but none of that really compares to his fury at how the other angels treated Aziraphale.]

You can go, priest. I can't imagine you want to spend your Christmas day around a demon.

[He runs his palm down his face before responding. God, give him the strength.]

I can't say some elements of this conversation have made that an appealing idea, but I ought to say something before we part.

[An angel is willing to have this demon in their corner, and God likely made them a key element in preventing the end of the world, and they have some distinctly un-demon like qualities, so they're not what Anderson initially assumed them to be. He should acknowledge that.]

How our first conversation went. It was not well navigated, on my part. Very poorly navigated, in fact. [He looks slightly exasperated.] I realise this is perhaps the most awkwardly worded apology you've ever heard despite your several millennia of life, but you're just going to have to accept it for what it is, because if I try again it'll undoubtedly be worse.

[Well, the surprise of the apology is enough to drain away some of his anger, or at least startle it out of him. He's quiet for a moment after Anderson finishes speaking, looking a little suspicious as he regards the man.]

Not the most awkward, actually, a bit confused about why you're bothering. Do you want something?

What? From you? Of course not. There's no ulterior motive. I'm just aware I can be an ass, at times. Or- what was it you called me? A sanctimonious prick?

[Half the city told him he was a colossal jackass at one point, so it's hard not to be aware. That made for a fun first month in Duplicity.]

Do people usually ask you for things? I wouldn't have thought that standard behaviour with a demon.

Won't argue that.

[It isn't like Crowley can claim to not be an ass, though he hasn't done much recently that's warranted any apologies. He's still not sure he wants to accept it, though.]

And everyone wants things, that's the business I was in, giving people what they want, or encouraging them to take it. Haven't you heard of Faust? Deals with the devil, all that sort of thing. Not quite how it works in reality, but some of the same principles apply.

Glad to see you're being so receptive to my apology.

[Can't quite stifle the sarcasm, but he made the apology and that's what matters.]

Right, yes. But I wouldn't have thought it so common that you would think a priest would want something from you. Resisting temptation is rather our shtick.

I haven't decided if I want it.

[It comes back to that word again; Crowley's gotten a handful of apologies since coming to the city, most of them for more unpleasant things than someone being a bit nasty and he waved those off, too.]

You think I've never tempted a priest before? [He almost laughs. Almost.] Priests are just as human as anyone else, if a bit more holier than thou.

You have it regardless of whether or not you want it, alas.

[Though he does understand what Crowley actually means.]

Outliers. I'm guessing by our last conversation that you don't get a lot of success with priests, and there's more than 'holier than thou' driving that. You certainly had no reason to think a priest like me would want anything from you.

--What did you think I might want from you, by the way? [He's a little curious.]

[Crowley rolls his eyes, over-emphasizing the gesture enough that it's clear what he's doing even with the sunglasses on, the dismissal meant both for that smart comment about the apology and the insistence that any easily tempted priests are outliers.

It's Christmas, though, so he's not going to get into this argument.]

Heaven if I know, s'why I was a bit confused. [He pauses for a moment, considering, and then adds:] Don't worry, I didn't think it was a sex thing.

[Now he's just being an ass.]

[It takes him a moment to actually think up a response to that. It's just so out of left field, and the implications.]

That should go without saying! Good Lord, was it usually a sex thing? [He can't imagine why else a demon would automatically jump to sex thing.] I'd extend my sympathies, but I suppose you might not require them.

[Demons seem to like that sort of thing, according to most sources.]

[It's probably a bad thing that upsetting a priest makes him so happy, but he's a demon, he can't help it.

That was like shooting fish in a barrel, too.]

Just figured you can never know with this place. I've had weirder requests.

[He hasn't, he's full of it.]

[He's gotten better at not letting the little things fluster him since arriving here, but he's still very easy, in that regard.]

I don't envy your job. Calling. Whatever you refer to it as. [A pause.] Which you won't be doing here, I assume, since you're no longer associated with the devil, and there's no reason for you to keep up appearances. You can keep that upward trajectory.

[You know. Being good. Angel things. ~~Ultimately being forgiven and turning back into an angel because that's how these stories should end!!!~~]

[Aw, there goes his amusement.]

You want to know a secret, father? I've been doing an angel's work for over a millennia, right alongside my own. Blessings, miracles, healing the sick, all that Godly business. Hasn't made a difference in my trajectory. No one up there cares.

[Not the angels, not God. Even if She's been watching, paying attention, planning all this, it doesn't change the fact of what he is and what he'll always be.]

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