People We Pretend To Be | Crowley

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Crowley .. well. Crowley's not the most honest guy around -- he doesn't lie about important things if he can help it, but the idea of being honest was ... nauseating, and he didn't even use his fucking stomach. Sure, maybe it'd be generally accepted if he just straight-out said that he couldn't fly, but then they'd know. They might even be considerate about it, and that was the last thing Crowley wanted, right after admitting weakness.
Hell didn't take well to demons that were weak.
Crowley may not have spent a lot of time in hell, but, well ... admittedly, he'd probably spent more amounts of time in contact with hell than with even Aziraphale, at least until lately*. He'd received orders fairly frequently, after all, and he only met up with Aziraphale a few times a decade, at first.
*up till before he came here, he means.
Now, Crowley might have considered shucking these ... quirks, if he thought this would be permanent. If he trusted enough to let himself. But, well -- he anticipated being dragged back to hell** soon enough, and didn't that twist his stomach.
He doesn't want to go back to hell.
**coming here was the most stupid and reckless thing he'd ever done -- they might let him resume being a field agent eventually, none of this shines well on him, exactly.
And, well -- admittedly Crowley's quirks do make for a curious case study. He never was good at lying, anyways. Still, he didn't expect that he'd stand out enough to make someone curious. So, maybe he's a little skeptical of why he's being approached. His ears turn, uneasy -- suspicious, but only by habit.
"Came to find me?" Dramatic, like a movie star -- that was precisely the vibe he was going for, at the risk of embarrassing himself if he was wrong. All sharp grin and sunglasses, Crowley whirls around, dramatic, to face and meet the hyena. She was a curious one -- Crowley wasn't entirely sure what to make of her, yet. "What's up?" Still a little dubious, but feeling better now that they were face to face, he shifts his weight and adjusts the way his wings rest, habitually. They just don't fit that well on a feline body, he'll admit it, but, hey, it's better than not having them.

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[arcy]

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Jesus christ, she isn't blinking. This must be how other people felt, before Crowley wore sunglasses. And was fully caught up on the whole uncanny valley thing. Funny thing, people freaked out if they realized you didn't breathe.
This is a dramatic tangent, considering that it hasn't even been for that long.
Crowley tilts his head, considering her offering. He's awfully dubious of, well, her --  but he's not sure if he's just .. paranoid* or not*. But he has no real reason not to. He has his own curiousities about her, after all, and, well, nothing wrong with a bit of socializing**.
*He is.
**There was, there was a lot wrong with this. But, in his heart, he really could do with some interactions.
"I mean, why not?" He grins at her toothily. Talk about what? Was she genuine? Crowley is talking himself in circles, and has approximately no answers. "Wasn' exactly planning on doing anything anyways, He spent a lot of time, wandering aimlessly. He didn't have much of a life direction when he didn't need to do work for hell '- he just sort of mucked about causing minor chaos. Like knocking books from the shelves, see. "Where to? What about?" Curious and impatient for answers, Crowley makes his demands***. Even outside of whatever paranoia he's struggling with, he doesn't particularly enjoy not having answers for any length of time.
***plain and simple questions,

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[arcy]

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Saying that she wanted to talk implied that she had an idea of what she wanted to talk about, only to turn around and say that they'll basically make it up as they go. Crowley, for one, is incredibly thankful for his sunglasses -- it allows him to continue to eye her suspiciously, all while still maintaining a friendly appearance.
To be entirely honest, Crowley has no fucking idea what she'd want with him, if she did have ulterior motives. Crowley never claimed to understand humans, and free-thinking animals even less. Everyone wanted something though. It was just a matter of how innocent it was.
"Do i look like the exercising type?" Crowley scoffs, but his voice is light*. All awkward, lanky limbs, he was. That was one thing that never changed -- and, anyways, if he had to do anything to maintain this mortal flesh of his, he'd have been dead millennium ago**. Regardless of his words, Crowley is prompt to trot after her. I mean, she's right, Crowley doesn't have a lot to lose.
*this is almost genuine. almost.
**crowley has, in fact, actually died/discorporated many, many, times.
"Came to me without a plan, then?" He keeps up the lighthearted tone. Why the fuck did she call him friend? Quite frankly, Crowley has never been referred to as friend in his goddamn life. Or -- well, for a few centuries, at least. And now it's by this weird hyena. "Fair enough, I 'spose," He shrugs. Would be pretty weird if you planned out your interactions, after all. I mean, nothing saying that she hadn't, and was just lying, but it was still pretty solid in theory.

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Well, Crowley wouldn't have faulted her for that, if he were privy to her mindset. Crowley wasn't much of a planner either -- get a loose idea, and then go for it. More wriggle room, more room for dramatics. Just how Crowley liked it.
The real issue with her plan, though, was that not only was his guard up, but Crowley didn't spill much personal information to begin with. By this point, keeping secrets was second nature, when interacting with the general populace.
*Not actually, but without hurting intent at least
"Yeah, I can see that," Crowley admits. His tone was still light, but, well, sensitivity wasn't in Crowley's particular skillset. At this point, if he implied he could imagine a near-stranger not being a planner, so be it.
"How's it been for you so far?" By no means does Crowley care**, but it seems his guard is working in Snarl's favor, this time. Silence won't do. Less tells, more time spent worrying about her intentions and when it'll happen. "I mean, this is a fuckin weird place, even for me. Can't imagine how it is for you," Six millennium of experience with the world, and Crowley is repeatedly getting thrown for a loop. He'll miss it when he's dragged, kicking and screaming, back to hell. Where else can you see this sort of stuff? The general lack of hell plaguing his fucking radios was just a bonus at this point.
**Debatable.

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[arcy]

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]You see, Crowley had a pretty good read on people. Certain types of people, he means. Being around for as long as he, you got to know the common types of people. Now, Crowley struggled with a lot of Tanglers, but Snarl? Crowley got her archetype*.
*Or so he claimed, anyways. It was probably just a bit of stereotyping, honestly.
"It'll take a bit of getting used to," He shrugs. Two months wasn't that long to Crowley, but he was getting the hang of it. Strange to be lumped in with everyone else, though. It was ... strangely gratifying. One of them, matching in weirdness. "Spending too much time worrying about it is a waste of energy past a certain point," Crowley's a bit of an overthinker, really, so it helps to just ... roll with it. He's good at that, really.
Crowley doesn't bother to completely keep pace. He's fine with lagging behind a few steps. He might not see her face this way, but she'd have to turn around to get hom, anyways.
"Despite appearances, this is pretty new for me, too" Oh god that was a terrible question to ask. Anything he said would just bring up more questions.  "Heard some rumors about the weird stuff here and decided to check it out. That's it," That was one way to answer, wasn't it? It wasn't even a lie. There was just .. more to it than that.