demonicmiracle | (duplicity) ic contact

Meet me in the Gray Room in one hour.

-- Lilith.

Hi Mr Crowley, sorry to bother you again so soon, but would you be interested in tea or something like that? I'm trying to keep being social, and you don't seem to react as badly to the Lonely as a lot of people do.

I wonder: do you think I could summon you into a demon circle?

[Following the trying encounter with Nick and once he's had a Statement, Jon pulls out his tablet to contact Crowley.]

Do you know Nick Scratch?

[A small crate of apples arrives at Crowley's door with no return address and a note that's been made by cutting out letters from a newspaper.]

these are not forbidden
nor do they contain teeth
please enjoy

[He's trying to be funny. Some of the humor may be lost on someone who hasn't read Dr. Lionel Elliot's Statement about his anatomy class...]

Edited 2019-11-14 19:58 (UTC)

Martin won't respond to my texts.
Is he still staying with you?
I've been awake a few days.
Is he all right?
Has another man been by to see him?
Tall, blond, thin.

I'm going to kill him.

[ one guess who he's talking about. ]

( it's the nineteenth when he gets a knock on his door, lilith holding a small white card box in her hands.

though she's brightened up considerably since she'd woken and cried at him there's a duller energy to her, more as if she's tired than that there's anything really wrong with her )

[Despite everything he'd done this year, Anderson finds the gifts he'd asked for in his stocking when he returns from Christmas celebrations at the orphanage. It's simply a few photographs of Yumie, Heinkel and Maxwell through various stages of their lives, some from a Polaroid and some digital. Among them he finds other, unfamiliar scenes featuring a white-clad man and one dressed in black- the latter of which he's quick to identify as Crowley, and he has to laugh a little at the pantaloons. Definitely a far cry from his current choice of outfit.

Courtesy of the D/S profile, it doesn't take him long to find Crowley's number, and he sends him a message while seated at his kitchen counter in a Christmas sweater one of his co-workers had gifted him. After the way they'd parted, it's a little awkward to contact him, but without an address, he hasn't much choice. He's certainly not going to keep the photos.]

I've received something of yours, I think. Unless the powers behind this event are playing a prank.

[He turns the camera on the photos, which he's neatly arranged into a square.]

Either way, I expect you'll want these.

[Even if it does look like a stalker took them. He wants to ask why, and he wants to ask who exactly the white-clad man is (the angel in his court, perhaps?), but he restrains himself.]

[Jon hasn't had friends in the multiple to buy gifts for... ever. So, it's something of a novelty to be delivering them for Christmas. Because he knows Martin is going to make a to-do about presents and things on his birthday, even though Jon doesn't particularly want it, he gets gifts out a bit early. Also, he's worried about keeping anything in the house with that terrifying elf leering.

There's a small box with a ring inside for him and a small note that's actually typed and printed.]

This is a gift, not a threat.
-Archivist

[A flat wrapped package arrives at Crowley's door. Inside is a calendar made from Sarissa's drawing on the network, and on the months beneath are little circles on random days with Cullen's cramped handwriting: Inter-dimensional Coffee Day (fancy word, right?), Drink Two Shots of Whiskey Day, Run from a Cat Day, Pet a Dog Day (Blade is available), Stay in Bed until Noon Day, Stay Up Past Midnight Day (Night?), Call a Friend Day, BEACH PARTY DAY (Bet you thought I forgot), Sit in the Sun Day, Kick a Tree Day, Play a Trick Day, and Come Up with your Own Day Day. (Lazy to leave it all up to me.)

The note accompanying the calendar reads, "This is not for Christmas. It's for Satinalia.

Regards,
Cullen"]

[two days before christmas, a small box is delivered to crowley's door. in it are these, along with a note:

𝒜𝓃𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓃𝓎,

𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 (𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝐼'𝓂 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑒𝓁𝑒𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈).

𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂.

𝒜𝓃𝓃𝑒]

[On Themyscira, there is no Christmas. Kronia had been the festival of midwinter, even though it had never snowed on the island. There had been feasting and games, but gift-giving was a new concept to her once she'd started to live among men. Since then, she likes to think she's grown quite apt at it.

But Crowley has her stumped, for a time.

Of course she wants to get him something. She cares for him, strange as it might seem to some, and is ashamed of the way she'd treated him during Tumenalia. Half of his gift comes easy--a bottle of wine akin to what they'd shared in her apartment after Sarissa's departure. But the second part comes harder. How does one shop for a demon?

In the end, she sticks to what she knows. On his doorstep, left by courier, appears an unremarkable insulated box, alongside a package exquisitely wrapped in deep red paper, which holds the wine. The insulated box contains a few potted seedlings, along with a blown-glass spray bottle and other odds-and-ends for tending to greenery. Each pot has a tag, scripted in Diana's own hand, with the plant's name.

With the wine is a note, the script as immaculate as the wrapping on the box:]

Dear Crowley:

These are plants native to this world, ones I'd never heard of in all my travels over my Earth. I can't know that you haven't heard of them as well, but I hope in them you find a spark of interest, a glimmer of novelty for the new year.

I do hope to see them once they bloom.

Fond Wishes,
Diana

[ after the party, once crowley's home and while martin's making tea for them, crowley will find his christmas gifts in his room, wrapped neatly in cute but simple seasonal paper.

first is a pair of plants (obviously only very loosely covered to keep from damaging them), one a bat flower and the other a rex begonia. both have instructions for care, and are in tasteful black stone containers. the next is a slightly crooked, probably hand-knit red blanket obviously meant for cuddling. the last, a slightly scandalous (but pretty) set of soft restraints, also has a note:

Because I like you in pretty things. ❤

merry christmas, crowley! ]

[Later that night, after what happened with Agnes, Crowley will receive a message.]

What do I owe you for the assistance?
Both for me and for Agnes.
I'd like to compensate you for the trouble somehow.

( wherever he happens to be a glass of whiskey appears by him. and then a moment later-- )

Are you busy?

I assume that you've returned.

Lucifer's here.

( it's been a few days since she's actually realised that but she's been plotting and casting spells. he may claim to not be from her universe but she still doesn't trust him. or the supposed kindness )

[A playlist mysteriously appears amongst the list of them in Crowley's phone without fanfare or notification. Maybe it takes a little while to discover, maybe not, but by the title it's very obvious who's responsible. None of the songs are titled properly, instead labeled with something more oblique, a mood, a message.]

dream

desire

now

deeper

you

for you

Please ward your bedroom, and your angel's bedroom.
I've tried not to say anything, but I'm afraid that I must now.

[ he's trying not to sound scared and slightly frantic, but he's not sure he's succeeding. ]

Crowley, I'm really sorry for bothering you about this, but-- but.. is there any way for you to locate Jon? I-- I'm probably worrying for nothing, but he left this weird text that he didn't finish and he said he was m-meeting with someone, and now he's not answering my texts or calls or-- God, I know I'm being an idiot about this, just-- if he's hurt, I..

Are you busy?

[First is a delivery, a garment bag containing the suit with a style of hat Crowley will certainly remember well and a pair of suspenders in separate boxes.

Around noon, another untitled song inserts itself on the playlist with a soft notification chime.

And around 7:30 PM comes a text with a map link and a time.]

9:00 PM. Don't be late.

[When he shows up at the restaurant, the host immediately greets him. "Angel is waiting for you. Right this way, sir." He leads him through the moderate crowd toward a table set with roses perfectly at the corner between two large windows, the lights of the city spreading out in both directions below.

Aziraphale is already seated at the table.]

I haven't been to that whiskey bar in a while. You feel up for a trek?

( text | un: wardwell )

( text )

no subject

un: thearchivist; text

Delivery